Tommy's movies: Resevoir Rats
by Jackie-Boy222
Summary: UPDATE! Tommy enters the Gang in the Young Guns film contest. They have no script, no ideas, and no plan. Will Angelica finally get her starring role? Can Chuckie survive filming? Will Tommy get his ending? Moderate ChuckieAngelica and light TomLil, Maybe
1. Chapter 1

Tommy's Films: Reservoir Rats

Disclaimer: I own a Camaro and a Boston terrier, that's about it.

My first fic ever, woo. I'll try to update when I can. Tommy enters the "Young Guns" Film contest and begins writing the best crime drama ever made. Through constant script changes and an unwritten ending, his cast struggle to survive. Light to moderate Chuckie/Angelica.

Chapter 1: Opening night

The school auditorium was already half full, not just parents and students, but assorted groups from all over. The "Young Guns" film contest had been advertised for the past month. Famous director Quentin Liotta was sponsoring a large student contest, with one common theme. Gangster movies. Most of these student directors were in college, yet one director was far younger. 14-year-old director Tommy Pickles was glancing around nervously at the "older crowd." Seated to his right were Lillian DeVille and Her twin brother Philip. Behind them were the films "stars," the more nervous than average Charles Finster and the more glamorous than usual Angelica Pickles. As true to character, Chuckie was nervous.

"Oh man guys, there are a lot of people here."

"Relax Chuck, we'll be fine, I have complete faith in this film." Tommy leaned back in his seat and started to hum.

"Do… Do you think they'll like the ending?"

Angelica, who had been admiring herself in her compact, snapped it shut. Which in turn, caused Chuckie to yelp.

"Finster," she rolled her eyes, "they'll…" She paused, and in one moment clasped her hand on Chuckie's and leaned to whisper in his ear, "They'll love your ending."

Young Finster's heartbeat increased greatly as Angelica's words blew past his ear. She could play him. After all these years, she could manipulate him. She could bend him to her will. And she knew this. And he knew this. And he didn't care.

Phil, on the other hand, who had been completely left out of Tommy and Lil's "conversation," and found what was going on behind him fascinating.

"Tommy"

"Not now Phil"

"Lil!"

"Not now Phillip."

At which point Phil grabbed his sister's head and directed it behind them.

"Yes Phillip, we know, now turn around, it's not nice to stare."

Phil's mind began to slowly lose feeling in his arms, things have been weird with Tommy and Lil for weeks and now behind him, Angelica Pickles was getting cozy with Chuckie Finster. Had the world gone crazy? She had her head on his shoulder; he had his arm around his neck, she had her hands in his lap, and they were giggling. What the hell is this about? Dil's Alien theories seemed more and more logical all the time.

The lights began to dim as Chuckie and Angelica snuggled close. A small man in blue walked on stage. He was dressed in a very expensive blue pinstripe jacket with matching pants; however any class the suit represented was dashed away by the Iron Maiden t-shirt he was wearing.

"Hello ladies and gentlemen" he began in an equally small voice, "and welcome to the 'Young Guns' film contest."

Tommy Pickles was, for lack of a better phrase, losing his mind.

"That's Mr. Liotta. Oh man, oh man…"

"We have a wide collection of um, amateur directors out here tonight. Uh… things look pretty promising and… good luck. Oh yeah... remember, I once started out many years ago uh, making films with my friends on an old VHS recorder. So, Uh, even if you don't win… Follow those dreams, or something. Okay, start the films.

Lil remembers, even today, how amazed she was at how fast that small man could run off stage. Reminded her of Chuckie.

Tommy, while being the good director and watching the setup shots of the first film, was thinking. He was thinking what every director their was thinking.

Am I ready for this?

--okay, first chapter. It just, popped in there. And yes, there will be an actual plot. So take care, read and review if you can, and drive careful.

Jackie-Boy.


	2. Chapter 2: Movie night

Woo, Chapter 2. Thanks to everyone who read Chapter 1; all four of you. Everyone's guessed the formulaic plot by now, so lets have some fun. (A.N. Reviews, actual reviews, I'm so damn happy. And one from the great Acosta Perez Jose Ramiro; the King of CA. I'm giddy.) anywho, on with the story.

Disclaimer: the window on the Camaro is broken, but I still own it. And I still don't own the Rugrats.

Chapter Two: Movie Night

One month earlier.

Chuckie Finster hated summer. It was such a volatile month. You start loving it. The freedom. But then, it turns on you.

During the first three weeks of summer vacation, Life's great. You get all the time in the world to hang out with your friends. Run through the sprinklers, watch horror movies, go fishing, run through the sprinklers, and play some ball in the park; then the mall. Fun.

But then, boom. It turns on you. The tedium, the boredom, it was maddening. Like Jack Nicholson in "the Shining," (not one Chuckie wanted to watch, but Tommy picked it, and Angelica had needled him to staying put through, and sleep was lost for days) he was slowly losing his grip. He was currently laying on the floor in Tommy's living room, the crowd seated around, and the images on the screen the only light.

Unbeknownst to Chuckie, a singular set of eyes was burning into the back of his head. Angelica Pickles was glaring. The seventeen year old "young woman" was upset, and at a strange crossroads in her life. Her senior year was fast approaching. Collage was on the horizon. No more silly young life. And she was alone. The boys who had constantly been groveling for her attention began to lose interest to her. They had no ambition, they had no class, and they only cared about themselves. She was looking more for someone with rich parents and who cared only about her. Was that too much to ask? The only kicks she had gotten for the last two months was the fear she still inspired in Finster.

It amazed her that she could still spook that kid so. All she had to do was stand behind him and wait for him to turn around. He would jump and shriek and run. It never failed. That kid had been as predictable as they came. No wait, he wasn't a kid anymore either. He was sixteen. She had never really thought of Finster as anything more than Finster; her cousin's gork friend with big glasses and poor annunciation, good old reliable Finster. If the sky fell and the moon turned pink and dogs spoke Latin, Charles Finster would not change. That, of course had to change too. He _had_ been predictable. Then, Saturday had revealed otherwise.

Saturday had been going amazingly well, and the evening had led to the gang (less Suzie, she was interning or something, Angelica had been reading a magazine at the time Suzie was explaining and couldn't be bothered with details) to sipping smoothies at their "favorite" hangout. By favorite we mean cheapest. Finster was sweeping the back room and Angelica was hiding behind a crate of beans ready to shock the poor child witless. She listened to him grumble as he swept, ready to pounce, but he stopped. He cleared his throat.

"Okay Finster, let's try this again..." He spoke, addressing the broom handle with grim determination. "Angelica, I… no, no, no, that's wrong."

"Angelica, I was wondering if you liked food. Wait, what? Of course she likes food! She likes food; she likes movies and so on but will like food and movies and things like that with me? She'd never go out with me, not in a million years. Angelica; I love you, so there! No, damn. Oh what's wrong with me I can't do this I can't face- Ah!"

Angelica's many years of Finster proximity allowed her to properly guess that Chuckie had tripped over the broom. She knew how long it took the average Finster to get up. She used this opportunity to bolt. Like a flash she took off through the Java Lava with one destination.

"Hey Angelica, are you…" was all Lil had managed to get out before the door slammed and Angelica had vanished.

"What's up with her?" Phil asked no one in particular. Kimi shrugged, "Have we ever known?"

Angelica had meanwhile ran strait to her room, do not pass go, do not collect 200 dollars. She was standing in her bathroom staring at her reflection. She had washed her make-up off and her mind was racing. A wave of mixed emotions crept over her spine. Her first desire was to go give Chuckie Finster a piece of her mind. She would embarrass him and shout something to the extent of "Charles Finster, you geek. I wouldn't date you if you were the last _thing_ on the face of this Earth!" That would have been good for a laugh. But then, He said it. Love. She ran her fingers through her hair. She felt Betrayed. How long was that two-faced weasel harboring feelings? Days, months; years? She couldn't stand to thing how far Finster's mind had "wandered" on the topic of her. Why that no-good…

Of course, She couldn't blame him. She _was_ the most attractive person he'd ever meet, so he begrudgingly forgave him for his ugh, attraction. Why was I cursed with such beauty, class, and grace? But once she washed her make-up off, these thoughts also ceased. He _loves_ me, she thought. And that is what bothered her.

You don't love people on how they look, (Like her geek-bait cousin. She was obliged to love him, he's family, but he's no prize) you have to really know them. How long had she known Finster? How many crises had she helped him with? No matter how scared and timid and unworthy of her help he was, she'd drag him, kicking and screaming if need be, to try to get that toad through his many, many, problems. And he'd be grateful.

Suddenly, like a mall elevator lurching to a halt it, it dawned on her. She had always caved. Be it at the last possible second, she always took time out of her busy schedule to help the clueless fool out. But he liked, no, wait, scratch that. He _loved_ her. So who's more clueless?

She needed to sit down. The room was, in fact, spinning. She laid down on her large bed and drifted slowly to sleep.

The next morning was not good. Nor the evening, for that matter. She had had odd and turbulent dream of dancing with HE. And that is all the time she wanted to waste on that. So she had spent the day cleaning, nothing else to do on a Sunday. Only one phone call had interrupted her day.

"Hey Angelica, where'd you disappear to last night?"

Angelica sighed "Hello Kimi. I'm splendid, and you? Look, I just didn't feel well, that's all."

"Well we were all worried. Chuckie went looking for you."

"Huh, oh, no surprise there." She fought the urge to begin stuttering. This warm odd feeling creped up her neck, to the sides of his face, and she felt Kimi could feel it too. "Listen, I have to go…"

"See you at Tommy's for movies tomorrow, right."

"Sure, sure. See you later, say hi to Chuckie." Click.

…

"Say hi to Finster what the hell is wrong with me!"

Flash back forward back to the now

Angelica sat, furious at the kid before her for screwing with her head. The movie was winding down. The hero had just mowed down a demon/witch creature in a Wal-Mart.

"Hail to the King, baby!" the hero had said, and swept a damsel of her feet.

"Yes!" Tommy had screamed in triumph. He'd been paying very little attention to Dil's film. He'd been typing like mad. His laptop on the floor, he began dancing like an idiot. His shout had scared the holy hell out of Chuckie, who had screamed and jumped and tripped again. Angelica found this slightly more amusing than she should have.

"Whoa T, What's the news?" Lil asked.

"We're in, We're in, My Story! We made it! Ha ha-ha." Tommy seized Lil into a hug and spun around. He then grabbed Dil and began to dance mad.

"Mr. Liotta liked my script, we're in. The 'Young Guns" film festival and we're in."

"Uh, Tommy, we don't have a mob movie."

"Incidental."

"But you do have a script?"

"Uh, we have an outline. No ending."

"Tommy, I hate to be master of the obvious but, we can't have a film with no ending."

"I know Chuck, the showdown in the cemetery, I just can't, damn. No way out. I'll let the only surviving cast members sort this."

"Only surviving…"

"Who?"

"Who, Tommy?"

Angelica knew what was coming, as you know true believer, who the stars of this fic are.

She knew what her idiot cousin was planning because Tommy was staring right at her, and Finster had become strangely interested with the ceiling fan.

…

"Uh… Chuckie and Angelica."

----Thank god_ that_ chapter's over. And I know that ending blows. It just needed to end at that point. Angelica centric, I know. Okay the final chapter is done. But the four or three between now and then are nonexistent. So it may be a few days. Just re-read the first chapters for your Angelica Chuckie fix. I do. Thanks readers, Take care.


	3. Chapter 3: the Third Chapter

Hey, what the hell. An update. I can really feel those creative juices flowing. This is starting to get kind of hard. Think I'll just skip past the first week of filming. Thank for all of the kind words and encouragement. Uh, not much other news (Got a neat one-shot forming in my cerebral cortex, but lets see how this pans out) so, here's hoping you enjoy.

-Jackie Boy

Disclaimer: Dog lost a tooth, poor old woman. But She's still mine; Rugrats, not mine.

-Reservoir Rats Chapter 3

Angelica was in an odd spot. She was starring in a movie actual people would see; lots of people. Sure, she wasn't a princess or a romantic heroine, but she starred. The film had been a breeze thus far. Tommy was behind the camera most shots, and the few scenes he had been in had been filmed by Dil, or as the credits called him, Second Unit. Her scenes had been well done, and Tommy's script had potential. No ending yet, but still.

There had been a few scenes with Finster that she hadn't been too particularly fond of. The "drive from the club" scene had been quite, well; they were close quarter scenes. So fat though Finster had been a complete gentleman. Not that he was ever anything else, nor had she noticed any change in his behavior at all, but little things in his personality she had once disregarded now came under closer scrutiny. Tripping over words, zoning out, they had deeper meaning. In her mind, every pause in their conversations had been followed by Angelica wondering what Finster was wondering. Still, the filming had been fun. The "airport scene" had been particularly amusing. Further still, she avoided contact with him whenever possible, just in case. It was just weird, knowing next time they were alone he might just ask her on a date. It was, _ak-weird_, to use the parlance of our times.

In the Finster household, things were going swimmingly. With the exception of Charles C. Pickles III, he was pacing franticly in his room. The scrip needed an ending. Things looked bad for Chuckie's Character. Every achievable ending wound up with either; his character dead, Angelica's character dead, or both alive and miserable. Chuckie liked happy ending. He wanted his character happy. He wanted Angelica happy. No, Angelica's character, he wanted Angelica's character happy. This was getting old. He missed the old days, or, as Phil had always said, "Before shit got weird." Crude, but it was effective. "Things" had gotten weird. He had fallen madly in love, which was foolish. But, he had fallen madly in love with Angelica Pickles, which was just dangerous. He was never quite sure when it had happened, but he began thinking about her differently. For the past sixteen years of his life, she had controlled him. But when he began to image life without her, he got scared. Look how far he had come. How he owed her so much. Then he found himself pondering her eyes, then her hair. He had tried to force these from his mind but found them comforting. It was one and a half years ago when he found himself "checking her out" at one of her parties. She was walking away and he snuck a glance towards her. Then, his mind fizzled out. "We have just lost cabin pressure. Please return to your seats." He spent weeks sorting these feelings out before embracing them. He felt so alive near his fearless warrior. She was confident and stunning, brave and invincible. All the things he was not. He wanted to grab her and shout all these things he felt, how happy he would try to make her, how good it would be, that he _loved _her.

Doing so would be ill advised. Part of what he loved about her was what he privately referred to as her "fierce spirit and spunk." She was not beyond slugging someone who crossed, and she was not above kicking a man while he was down. If he spoke, then she would tear him down. So, he pined quietly, ever waiting for the moment when his nerves would hold long enough to ask her out.

Tomorrow was a Thursday. Or maybe a Friday, not important, but tomorrow, yes tomorrow, tomorrow would be a good day. He would try.

So he stopped pacing, and prepared for bed. He managed to drift to sleep after an hour of tossing. His dreams were fairly pleasant. _She_ was there, and they were sailing a boat for badgers or ferrets or something. A Koala had built a go-kart for them too, he thinks. It didn't matter; she was there. And nothing else mattered at that moment.

-Okay, Chapter four _will _have Chuckie/Angelica interaction. Holy hell, this is fun. So, thanks. Review if you want, "it makes no nevermind to me," as my Grandfather would say. Thank you and God bless.

-Jackie-Boy


	4. Chapter 4 and Chapter 5

Okay, this is it. Prepare to Rock. Or at least be mildly entertained. I've got a surprise treat for all you loyal fans. A double-stuffed Episode; Chapters Four and Five, I know, I'm on a fraggin' roll. Chuckie Angelica always looks to be similar, and can easily go from good to trite, so it's been hard to keep shit fresh. Hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: I don't own Rugrats. Never have. I do own quite a large number of bottle caps. They're pretty cool.

Charles Finster would always remember that Friday for the rest of his life. He could never quite remember anything up 'till 2:15, but on everything after that he has absolute and total recall. All you would have to do is ask, and he would gladly tell every detail.

He would tell of the clouds in the sky. There were many clouds that day, but none of them had a threatening line about them. He would tell of the cool breeze on that summer day, the one that went across his chest and towards his right. He stopped, shut his eyes, and breathed. The air seemed warm and as filled his lungs, and he was at complete peace. Except of course his eyes were still closed as he began taking his first steps and came crashing into…

"Angelica!" Chuckie screamed as _the fear_ began creeping up his spine. Ah, yes, _the fear. _He had almost forgotten.

He had spent all morning at Tommy's editing The Movie. He himself had actually done very little, Tommy was working and Lil was giving him ideas. She was T's own personal fan base all morning, and through lunch, where they continued script revision. Chuckie had decided to leave when Tommy suggested they watch some old films. Not that Chuckie had ever minded T's old movies, but the afternoon had quickly turned into Lil, asking why the filmmakers would do this or that and Tommy, happily explaining everything while she sat awestruck. It was just exaggerated flirting; and T was the only one unable to see this. So Chuckie decided it was in T's best interest if he cut out early. Seeing them happy had spun his whole day for the better. Now, he had just knocked Angelica over. _Oh good. _

And now we have to run.

"Sorry Angelica," he muttered, as he hastily helped her up, "gotta go now." He turned tail to run, and had almost made it.

"Wait..." She had called. He would tell how all the birds had chirped whilst she called, and how nervously he waited for whatever was to come next.

"Uh, what is it Angie?

Now, it was Angelica's turn to be nervous. Why had she stopped him? He was starring at her, awaiting what, she wasn't sure. His eyes were huge, full of fear and, there was something else, a small hint of something. Excitement, joy; it was scaring her. _The fear_ had begun to crawl around her face. And though it was a cool day, she felt uncomfortably warm.

"Never mind, Finster." She huffed, and turned to leave.

"Angelica!" He called. Her heart skipped, and she turned around to face him. His blushing was incredibly noticeable, which caused her to blush. Her heart was fluttering at an alarming rate.

"Uh, I haven't eaten at the Olive Garden for a while."

"Thank you Finster. Your point…"

"I was going tonight."

Angelica was near breathless. She was in close proximity, and she could tell he was breathing heavily. "And…" She had meant for that to sound harsh, but it was only a weak whisper. Her own voice was betraying her. Her knees felt week.

"Did, uh, you want to come?"

He said it. She can't believe he said it. Her heart rose. He grew a spine. This was the boldest thing he would probably ever do in his pathetic life. Her first reaction was to immediately say yes, but why? No, that wasn't her style. Not her style at all. Let him squirm, it'll do him some good.

"Well…"

"Yes."

"Ugh, I suppose. Pick me up at seven, I'll drive, semi formal dress. You will bring flowers. You pay for appetizers and your meal; I'm not going to be totally dependant, and for heavens sake Finster;" She paused. His eyes, they were so large. She had to fight to stay coherent.

"Don't be late." She smiled coolly and sauntered off.

Oh yes, Chuckie would _always_ remember that saunter.

--------------Chapter 5-----------

Drew Pickles was preparing dinner. His wife, Charlotte, was on the phone. No surprise there. His daughter, his princess, was upstairs getting ready for a date. Once again, it was business as usual, but not really. His daughter's behavior had been, quite odd. This boy had had an odd effect on his daughter. She seemed, jumpy, edgy, and anxious.

"MOM! Come Here!"

"Listen Jonathan, I have to go, I'll see you tomorrow. Coming sweetie!" Drew loved his women very much, but they could be very loud.

He had just gotten his roast in the oven when there was a knock at the door. It was 6:45 on the dot. Eagar kid. "Poor sap," he thought, amusing himself slightly. He loved his daughter, but he doubted this poor boy knew how "needy" his daughter was. Oh well. He put his game face on. He went with "mistrusting, slightly concerned." Time to go meet the opposition. He would be polite, of course, but he would lay down the ground rules. "And remember, if she's not home at 10, you should start looking for a good doctor!" He chuckled. He was never that intense, but he still managed to get the message across. He coughed slightly, clearing his throat, and opened the door

"Chuckie?"

"Hello, Mr. Pickles, is Angelica home?"

"Uh, yes, but she's going on a date here soon…" Drew's voice had started failing at "on." Chuckie was dressed up. He was wearing a Blue button down shirt, a grey suit jacket, and kakis. Drew hadn't noticed until now the flowers Chuckie held in his hand. Inside Drew's mind, little gears and cogs spun and clicked into place. Chuckie Finster had come to take Angelica Pickles out on a date.

"Yes!" Drew had shouted, "Uh, come in. Yes, come in; go, uh, have a seat on the couch. And… I'll go, uh, I'll tell Angelica you're here."

Drew stumbled up the stairs in a mad dash. He had never really liked any of Angelica's gentlemen callers; he didn't know really them to trust them. But he knew Chuckie Finster. He had always liked Chuckie and, to be honest, he respected Chuckie. Chuckie was a coward, a nervous man who, no matter who picked on him or beat him or mocked him, refused to change. He had always said please and thank you, yes sir and no sir. He was kind to everyone and, to be frank, almost too good to be true. If he hadn't known Chazz, he'd have though Chuckie had been putting on an act of some sorts. But that boy, he was good. He was kind, a true gentleman.

Charlotte had been sitting on her daughter's bed, her mind, not quite racing, but at a swift jog. Her daughter had tried on every outfit she owned, and for what? Charlotte had finally helped Angelica settle on a white button top and a black skirt. And now Angelica was worried this wasn't good enough, she wanted to "make a statement." This, obviously, was someone of importance in the teen world, maybe a ball player or something. Charlotte recalled those days. And she was glad to be out of them. She was about to start parenting about dating and all when her loving man came to a sliding halt in the upstairs hall.

"Angelica," He said smiling, "Your date is here."

"Oh, Daddy, uh, it's not a date." She said in, in a state of near panic. It's uh, two friends at dinner, that's all."

"Oh…" He said knowingly. Now everyone present could not help but see the smile on his face.

"Angelica, what do you mean, you drag me up here to help with your clothes for this "important date," and now you tell me it's not a date." She turned to her husband, who was grinning like an idiot. He was hopping from one foot to another, like the nervous dance of a small boy on Christmas morning.

"And you," She scowled, "what do you seem to find so amusing?"

"Uh, Charlotte, why don't you go down and offer the young man something to drink, I'm sure he's parched."

"Hmm!" she sneered and stood up, feeling quite annoyed. She left the room, and Drew began to listen. He heard her heels click down the hall, he heard them get about four steps down, and then they stopped. The silence must have only lasted six seconds, bit it seemed like a generation. He then heard Charlotte walk upstairs, down the hall, and to the door. She opened the door and stood in the frame. She looked quite puzzled, like a dog that's just been shown a card trick.

"There's no one down there but Chuckie."

Drew stared at his wife, beaming.

"…"

"Oh."

----And that is where we end tonight. It's time for me to write myself out of this mess so, until next time true believer, Keep the faith. And remember; pillage _before_ you burn.

Jackie-Boy


	5. Chapter 5: Chapter 5 part II

Sorry it's late, I tore the holy hell out of my arm motorcycling the other day, so then I withdrew indoors and watched Videodrome. Not really good fodder for romantic fiction, so I was forced to counter with a good dose of Warren Zevon, for three days strait. The Black Powder Deer season opened so work has been maddening, people needing scopes and rifles and primers and so on. So, without further ado, Let's check on the happy couple.

Chapter 5: The Continuation of Chapter Five, where in which we find our couple preparing for a private night on the town.

Angelica was irritated. All she really wanted to do was go eat her stupid dinner with stupid ol' Finster, because she was sure once they "attempted" to act civil towards each other, she would realize this could never work. Then things could go back to normal.

But did she want things back to normal?

…

…

…

Son of a bitch!

This is what has been tearing her up inside. She was oddly enjoying this extra attention from Finster, he was just so, sweet. Not to mention that she was quite caught up in the romantic notion of having someone pining for her affection; the lover from afar. It was quite a comforting, warming, reassuring feeling. This was getting absurd. She needed to sort. Her mind was constantly attacking and shielding Chuckie, like a great, mad, and unrelenting chess match in which Finster was the prize. Her feelings had grown passionate, and her mind was having trouble with its logic. She just had to get out. Her mother, however, was not going to let her leave without making a big deal about tonight.

"Angelica, I'm so proud of you. You're taking Chuckie Finster out on a date. Chuckie Finster. That is a real sign of maturity. You're basing relationships on more than outer appearances; you're seeing people's inner beauty. You've-"

"Wait; what?" Angelica began to get slightly upset. She tried to calm herself, but it was quite clear that she was not succeeding. "What's that supposed to mean?" She was not yelling, but her tone was ominous. "What's wrong with Finster's appearance?"

"Well, nothing; I mean, he's cute." Charlotte searched her daughter's face, to see if this grave trespass was forgiven. Wrong answer.

"What I mean is…"

Let us go, beloved reader, downstairs. Here we find Chuckie Finster, sitting upright, shaking slightly, and staring attentively at his glass of orange juice. In the armchair across him we find Drew Pickles, similar position, staring at his watch as if it were about to do some great trick. Neither person was calm. This was not their field of experience.

Sure, Drew had had to share uncomfortable silences with other boys in his den, but no familiar ones had ever been in this position.

"So, Chuckie, how are your folks?" Drew asked hesitantly.

"Uh, they're fine sir." Chuckie answered mechanically. He was running on autopilot. His faculties had left about the time he left home on the walk to Angelica's. He had told his family simply that he was going on a date; he then spent an hour avoiding his father. When Chuckie was finally cornered, his father wanted to have "The Talk."

There's some good news.

It started, "You know son, you're a man now, and as a man, you get, feelings." And that's about as good as it got. The rest of the talk was so painful that it would make me, the writer, physically uncomfortable to describe it.

"And, uh, there you go." was how it ended. Chuckie was mortified. Chazz was embarrassed. Chuckie patted his father on the back.

"Good talk Dad, I know you tried."

"Thanks son."

His sister, however, had been harder to slip.

"So, you've got a date?" She eyed him suspiciously.

"Uh, yes."

"Who?"

"Huh?"

"Who?"

"Nobody you know…"

"Really, well-"

"Kimi, This laundry isn't going to put itself away." Their mother called. Kimi walked away with an irritated and dissatisfied look on her face. This was not over. Kira walked by and winked to her son.

His parents' then wondered over how much of a "handsome young man" he had become. They couldn't wait to meet Chuckie's lady friend, but had agreed to wait, since Chuckie had asked, to see if it got that serious. So Chuckie bid his farewells and took off. He was so nervous. His mind had been so, so busy, he had been unable to complete a thought. "I should've worn a blue coa- damn I'm scared."

So he continued his idle banter. Petrified. Numb. Then he heard it. It might as well have been The Funeral March. But it wasn't. It wasn't. It was the singularly familiar sound of heels clicking down the stairs. His eyes couldn't be forced from the staircase. As she floated down the stairs, Finster had two thoughts. His first thought was Angelica had never looked so beautiful. His second simultaneous thought was that she had always looked this good, but there was more to it than that. She looked so nice, and she had dressed up to spent the evening with _him_.

Whilst Finster swooned over this prospect, Angelica stared Finster. An odd disbelief was entering her mind, a warm feeling sliding into her chest, forming a small lump in her throat. Sitting or her sofa was what she confirmed to be a man in a Chuckie Finster suit. Flowers across his lap, hair _slightly _combed, Chuckie was staring at her with a look of love that caused that familiar warm feeling to creep around the edge of her cheeks. How had she not noticed Chuckie had become a man; a near handsome man, and a man who loved her?

"Uh, hey Angelica."

Damn, caught looking, say something.

"Hey Finster."

He stood up nervously, and handed her the flowers.

"These are for you. You look, you look really nice."

"Uh, you clean up pretty good yourself."

…

…

"Uh, c'mon Finster, I'll drive."

"Wait," Drew spoke up. "How 'bout a photo?"

Angelica's face paled. They were going to document this.

Drew arranged his daughter and her beau in front of the stairs, with Chuckie on the left, with his right arm draped awkwardly around Angelica. Charles Finster III felt this to be the greatest moment in his life. Of course he knew better that to say so. Angelica felt oddly nervous. She knew if this date tanked things would get weird. If it went well, things would get weird. Hell, things got weird several weeks ago. Maybe this was the natural order, she was getting older, and Finster did like her. We shall just have to see.

So Chuckie and Angelica left. Chuckie was opening the driver's door of Angelica's car for her, the consummate gentleman, when she heard her father call.

"Have her home by 11:00."

Angelica's boy-time curfew had always been 10, and pity on the poor boy who was a minute late. Perhaps her father was pulling for Finster, and that wouldn't surprise her one bit. Finster was a good man, but a good man for her? She eyed Chuckie as he sat down, closed his door, buckled his seatbelt, and stared strait ahead.

"It's Just Dinner," she thought to herself as she drove off.

**Epilogue:** The ending of chapter five and the foreword of chapter six.

Drew watched his daughter drive off. His nerves slightly frayed, he was lost in his thoughts for a few moments. After thinking about it, he picked up his phone.

The Finster house was quiet as usual that evening. With her son gone, Kira had decided to use this time advantageously. She was currently snuggled up on the sofa with her "loving man," and on the television some Unspeakable Horror was lurking, driving the students of Miskatonic University mad in some Sci-Fi original picture. Kimi was staying at the DeVille residence, so there Kira and Chazz sat, enjoying the B-atiffic old ones attacking onscreen. Her husband was holding his wife, half out of immeasurable love, and half out of fear, just as Kira had planned it.

Her plan was working perfectly when the phone rang. The caller ID on the handset read: PICKLES, DREW. Damn.

"It's your turn honey," she sighed to her husband as she handed him the receiver. She then paused the movie, right as Dean Cain was being chased in the library by some slimy thing. Chazz begrudgingly beeped the phone to life.

"Hey Drew. What's up?" He asked, with slight disdain as he nursed his wine.

"Hey Chazz, Just wanted to let you know Angelica left."

"…"

"On her date…"

"…"

"With Chuckie."

Now, you, loyal reader, know what a spit take is. That's when someone spits their drink across the room. Well Chazz's spit take was perfect. He paused for a moment and regained his composure.

"Really?"

"I know, I'm- wait, you didn't know either?"

"Huh! No, no. Of course I knew, I'm just, uh…" 

"You didn't know."

"No. No, I did not. Really?' Chazz's voice now had a nervous, sheepish type tone to it.

"Exciting, Isn't it?"

"Uh, yeah, uh, wow. Wow. Uh listen, I need a moment here Drew. See you tomorrow?"

"Of course, I'll bring the pictures." Click.

Kira was staring at her husband with a puzzled look. She only got half of that conversation. And now her husband had a look like he, well; like they were doing more than snuggling. When you have a conversation like that, people get curious.

"What was it?" Kira asked, her patience wearing thin.

"Drew called, Angelica left for her date…" He paused for dramatic effect. "With Chuckie."

-----Well, about damn time. Ye Gods this story's gonna be longer than I thought. Boku longer. Bear with me, true believer, the next chapter looks promising; "Thar's Gold in them thair hills!" And we shall find our Gold then, and it will be good. Take care, dear friend, and remember: "Pillage _before_ you burn."

Jackie-Boy


	6. Chapter 6: The Sixth Chapter

All right, Chapter six. And that's all I've got to say about that.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything.

Chapter six: the Girl from Ipanema

The drive went by in relative silence, with the music of Rush piped in at a hushed volume.

The reservation, under Finster, was a decent table, not too close to either the kitchen or the door. They had just ordered appetizers, and by they, I mean Angelica. She then looked across the table. Maybe it was a trick of the light, but Finster looked beautiful.

"So, uh Finster, what's up with you?"

"Uh, what. Nothing, it's just…"

"What? What is it?"

"You, you look so striking."

"… Oh," Angelica was stunned, "well, you look quite, quite nice yourself."

Awkward silence.

"Hey, Angelica, how much does a polar bear weigh?"

"What? I, I don't know Finster."

"Enough to break the ice, what are you having for dinner?"

Angelica thought that was the stupidest thing she had ever heard. Then she began to laugh. This _could_ go well.

**Meanwhile, Behind The Façade of The Innocent Looking DeVille Residence**

Kimi was bothered. She was playing Clue with Suzie and Lil, and all she could do is worry about her brother. She _had_ to look after him, after all; he was her brother.

Her night had been going great, hanging with Suzie and Lil. Angelica was supposed to show up, but she had flaked earlier that day. So they had talked about boys and watched gory gory films.

"What's wrong Kimi?" Suzie asked.

"Oh, Chuckie's out on a date, I just, I worry."

"Oh, don't worry, what could go wrong." Lil asked. Then she paused. "Oh yeah, Chuckie, that's, that's no good."

"Now I'm kinda worried." Suzie interjected. All three ladies there knew of Charles Finster's "social flaws," and the prospect of him alone with a girl scared them.

Kim pulled out her cell phone, switched it to speaker and called Chuckie.

Angelica was enjoying her evening almost too much, when she heard a sound. It took her about ten seconds to realize it was a digitized version of "Smoke on the Water." Chuckie turned Fire-Apple Red.

"It's Kimi…"

"Oh, Go ahead and answer it. I'll go wash my hands." Angelica excused herself.

Chuckie answered his cellular.

"Hello?"

"Hey Chuckie, how's the date?"

"Uh, it's going good, actually."

Awkward pause

Kimi, as well as her fellow conspirators, heard a soft sound.

"Uh, Chuckie, what's that noise?"

…

…

…

"The Girl from Ipanema?"

Sure enough, the "Girl from Ipanema" was blasting through.

"Okay Chuckie; you behave now."

"Bye Kimi."

Click

Elsewhere, in the ladies room;

Angelica found herself staring at her reflection in the mirror, thinking about Finster, a now all too familiar position. The evening was, well, magical. She was feeling all these sappy emotions that Walt Disney was so fond of. She did not like this. She needed to be in control, and her emotions were starting to take the reigns.

Her phone began to ring. She glanced at the name, and muttered.

"Hello." Angelica said angrily.

"Hey Angelica," Suzie replied. "Where are you? We're here at Lil's, talking about boys."

"Well, why you girls _talk_ about boys, I'm on a date with a _real_ gentleman." Angelica said smugly.

At the DeVille Residence, the girls were staring at Suzie's Phone. After having such fun with Chuckie, they had decided to call Angelica, just for kicks. It was between her and Tommy, but Angelica had won the vote. Now Angelica could hear giggling on the other end.

"So," Suzie replied coyly, "Where did this, _Gentleman_, take you."

"None of your business."

"…"

Suzie had stopped talking. She could hear the girls whispering amongst themselves.

"What's wrong Suzie? No snappy comeback?"

"Angelica," It wasn't Suzie, but Kimi. The she-Finster. "Angelica, what's that noise?"

Angelica paused. The loudness of the restroom speakers made the sound near impossible to identify. After several moments, it hit her.

"Uh, I think it's the 'Girl from Ipanema,' why?" Angelica was puzzled.

"Uh, gotta go; drive careful." Kimi yelped from the other end. The line went dead.

Shrugging it off, Angelica walked to her table.

"Good conversation, Finster?" Angelica viewed that "their" appetizers had arrived.

"Uh, yeah. Hey, Angelica?" Chuckie asked uncertainly.

Angelica's heart stuttered slightly. "Yes?" She asked in a whispered.

"What is this I'm eating? It's good but; what is it?"

Angelica hung her head. "Calamari."

"…"

"It's squid, Finster."

As she watched him amusingly, she got a heavy feeling in her chest. This was nice, this "dinner date;" she felt as if she was floating on air. Her emotions were being disloyal to her, and she didn't mind.

--------_Provocative, Yeah. _Okay, Short chapter tonight. This is going to be one long story. Definite case of biting off more than I can chew, going to choke to death. Next, I shall sit down and watch this cassette I have on The Kennedy Assassination, then go to sleep. No rest for us wicked bastards.

"Take Care of Yourselves, and Each Other"

-Jerry Springer

Until we meet again, true believer,

-Jackie-Boy


	7. Chapter 7

All right, Chapter 7. Long time, no update. This mess has been going on for far to long. Time to put some miles on the old Mac.

Chapter 7: The Spy Who Loved Her Brother and Hated The Girl She Was Dating

Kimi sat in silence. Lil and Suzie sat in an equally somber condition. They were staring at Kimi, waiting for her to speak. Yet Kimi sat still, near catatonic. She had been reeling, unable to process information. There was a distinct possibility that her brother was on a date with Angelica. No. Just… no. She began browsing her long-term memory for hints, any clue that this has been long time coming.

"Uh, it could just be a coincidence. I mean, just because they are at the same restaurant…" Lil had begun. She stopped, realizing of course hers or anyone else's rationalization was useless.

"Maybe we should just leave them be. I mean, maybe she really cares." Suzie began. Her words were having no effect on Kimi. Kimi picked up her phone, turned the speakerphone on, and dialed.

Angelica and Chuckie were noshing on their respective salads when Angelica's cell went off. Beginning to get annoyed by the constant interruptions, she glanced at her phone.

"That's odd; it's your sister." Angelica said, a suspicious tone hiding in her voice.

Chuckie looked concerned. His sister was not always on best terms with his current dinner companion, and this conversation could go any direction.

"Hello Kimi," Angelica said in a flat, mildly inquisitive way.

"Angelica, Where are you?"

"Uh, on a date."

"What's he like?"

Angelica felt numb. Kimi was on the offence. Angelica needed to gain control of the situation. "What's the matter, Kimi? Is not having a social life starting to get to you?" Angelica felt a look from her date. Hoping to make amends she continued. "What's he like? Well, He's kind, he's sweet," Angelica paused a moment to bask in the joy she was having causing Chuckie to blush. Angelica lowered her voice to a near whisper. "He's also a Genuine Fox." Chuckie became intensely uncomfortable at this moment. Angelica brought her voice back to normal pitch. "Anything else Kimi?"

Click.

Angelica shrugged. "She hung up on me."

Chuckie wanted to say something. Anything. All he got out was an awkward sound before his cell began to ring.

Angelica batted her eyelashes. "You gonna get that?" She asked sweetly. She resisted the urge to call him 'Hon.' Part of her knew that teasing poor Finster like this was mean. The other part, however, was starting to feel, a _strong _liking to poor Finster.

"Hello?" Finster asked nervously.

"Hey Brother. How's your date?" She asked, curt and direct-like.

Chuckie Finster was usually nervous. At best. He was now approaching full on paranoia.

"Hi Kimi. Uh, it's going wonderful." Angelica looked visibly frustrated, why wouldn't Kimi leave them alone. Can't a girl get a little privacy with her boyfriend?

… …

…

…

…

Whoa…

Ladies and Gentlemen, this is your Capitan speaking, we have just lost cabin pressure. Please make sure your seatbacks are locked in the upright position. In the event of a water landing, your seat cushion may be used as a flotation devise.

You just called Charles Finster your boyfriend.

Son of a Bitch!

She did not just think that. But there it is, in the a few paragraphs up, in plain type. This was just getting silly. Her face went fire-apple red. She quickly turned her head. Her mind was spinning at a phenomenal speed. Chuckie caught a quick glance of Angelica, she looked slightly ill as the blush consumed her face and she turned to fact the window. He then realized his sister was talking.

"What's she like?"

The possibility of catastrophic failure is astronomical.

"Uh, she's sweet, understanding,"

Whatever mental battle Angelica was waging was brought to a standstill.

"Uh, she's intelligent, and decisive, and wonderful, and, and simply the most beautiful woman on earth!" He said excitedly. Then he stopped. It Slowly dawned on him what he had said, the seriousness of his words. Chuckie froze in shock as to what he had just said. Angelica was looking at him. She still looked ill, though her features were frozen in shock. "I'm gonna have to call you back. Bye."

Awkward silence.

Kimi sat unnerved.

She stood up, grabbed a coat.

"Where are you going?" Lil asked, slightly worried for her friend's personal state.

"Suzie is going to drive us to the Olive Garden, to save my brother."

Suzie jumped up. "Wait, what?"

"Let's go, we're wasting time." Kimi was frantic.

"Why don't we just let them be?" Lil asked. Kimi stared at her.

They pulled into the Olive Garden after about twenty minutes on the highway. Kimi flew out of the car and began checking the restaurant windows. "Hurry Up!" She hissed at her two accomplices. Suzie and Lil shrugged. Through the window they were collectively brought to a standstill, curiosity grabbing their throats as they quietly watched the scene unfold.

Chuckie and Angelica were currently making short work of dessert, and what I mean of course, is Angelica was making short work of dessert. The meal had been eaten in relative silence, and Chuckie looked lost in thought. Angelica decided to smash the silent.

"Want some Finster?" Angelica asked, motioning to her dessert.

"Uh, no thanks. I don't eat anything with _terror_ in the title." Finster replied.

Angelica shook her head. She scooped up a sizable portion of her tiramisu in her spoon, leaned across the table at him, and held the spoon in front of Finster's mouth.

"Open." She commanded

Deciding not to argue, he obediently opened his mouth, whereupon a spoonful of coffee-dessert was forced into his mouth.

They froze.

Angelica and Chuckie suddenly became intensely aware of their position. She was leaning across the table, spoon-feeding Chuckie Finster dessert. They quickly blushed and looked away from each other.

They had looked as if they were posing for a photo, which is pretty funny, considering Kimi had her cell phone out, and had viewed this moment as a photo opportunity.

"Kimi, what are you doing." Suzie asked. This was an invasion of Angelica's privacy and, like it or not, Suzie felt that the "couple" deserved their privacy.

"Evidence!" She hissed.

"Evidence?" Lil asked hesitantly.

"Yes, so we can confront her; and stop this evil from corrupting my brother!"

"Corrupting your brother? They ate one meal together at _the Olive Garden_, and we all know how evil this place is." Suzie said dryly. This was not the start of a good evening as far as she was concerned.

As the conversation took a rapid turn south, their squabbling was cut short by the sound of Angelica's giggling.

The girls leaned around the edge of the window to see what was happening.

Chuckie and Angelica were getting up to leave, and the girls decided to book it. But before they do leave, they take one last look. Chuckie pushes Angelica's chair in, and helps her with her coat. Chuckie giggles at something Angelica said as they go towards the door.

As Angelica and Chuckie were walking to their car, they heard another one screaming off into the night. Chuckie opened the car door for Angelica, got in the car, and drove of in relative quiet.

"Dinner was nice…" Chuckie trailed off.

"Yeah, thanks for the invite."

"Uh..."

"Ugh, we both know you want to say something or ask me something and your nervous, but there's not much of the night left, so hurry up and say it."

Chuckie swallowed his fear, bit his bottom lip and let the cards fall where they may.

"Why did you say yes?"

Angelica froze. There was no mistaking the apprehension in Finster's voice. She knew that sound better than she knew her own parents' tendencies. It became clear to her in this moment what she and Finster had been, up until this night. He was her best friend. Her domineering ways sometimes had the tendency to put her other friends off, so Finster was always there. Anything other friends would renege on, Finster could always be counted on. He was the Robin to her Batman, the Greg Sanders to her Gil Grissom, the Sonny to her Cher. And when it _was_ just the two of them, she always wound up having the best times.

So why had she said yes…

"Because Finster, you asked me."

…

"Look Finster, I know all too well what a coward you are. And you asked me out to dinner. I can't imagine how courage that took."

The trio of Kimi, Lil, and Suzie arrived at the Finster house about eight minutes before Chuckie and Angelica arrived. This gave them time to find a good hiding spot with a decent vantage point. Lil's Cell Phone was placed open and hidden in a potted plant, this was so Kimi could, "hear every lie from that witch's mouth."

As Angelica's car pulled up, Suzie was finishing up a very long speech about peoples right to privacy.

"Maybe you're looking at this all wrong, Angelica's not evil; she's just rather, well, mean. But not evil."

"Quiet, here they come."

Kimi's cell phone was on speaker, and they watched, through the window, as the scene unfolded.

"Well, Chuckie, here we are, at your house." Kimi could not believe the apprehension heard in Angelica's voice.

"Angelica," Chuckie began clutching at courage with all he could "What now?"

"What do you mean, 'What Now?"

"Tomorrow, if we see each other, what, does this date change our status?"

"Well," Angelica paused. "I had a _real good time_," she was doing it again, batting her eyelashes, stretching her words out and leading him on. "Tell you what, tomorrow night, come over to my place, we can watch movies _and_ _talk._"

She took his hands into hers, leaned up and kissed him.

It was a quick peck on the lips, but a thunderbolt went through both of them. Angelica had had many crushes in her time. What she felt just now, it was passion. Their eyes locked for a brief moment, then Angelica realized they were still holding hands.

"Well Finster, see you tomorrow, 7 sharp, see you then." You could tell she was frantic. These emotions she had tried all night to keep bottled-up were rearing their ugly head. She had to jet.

"Bye Angelica…" he called as she drove off. He floated through the door and up to his room.

Kimi sat speechless, just as she had at the chapter start.

"Well, Kimi. I guess there's someone for everyone." Lil said with a shrug as the ladies began the walk back to the DeVille house. Upstairs, Chuckie drifted off to sleep while thinking of Angelica. Though it was hard to think over the extremely loud romantic music coming from his parents' room. As Chuckie slept, Kimi planned her course of action.

------------Well, thank The Christ that's over. I've been sick, and then, yesterday was my 21st Birthday, and I discovered why high school sucked so much. I wasn't drinking. Anywho, thanks for reading, I really and truly mean that. And next chapter should be up soon, but I got this one-shot I'm working on. But, it's late, so until then reader. God Bless.

---Jackie-Boy


	8. Chapter 8: The Chapter After 7

Okay, I've been switching between stories for about a week now, and it's getting hard to finish anything.

Reservoir Rats Chapter 8

Tommy, Lil, Dil, Phil, Kimi, Angelica, and Chuckie were at the Java Lava. This is not that unusual except for the fact that the Java Lava was closed. The gang was there after-hours so they could finish filming the action climax of the film. It had come to Tommy how the Action should break down before the ending. He wanted this wrapped up so he could spend more time trying to find the conclusion. Phil, having no part in the scene being filmed, had become "Head of Special Visual Effects." Phil thought this was the single job ever, and people get _paid _for doing this.

After the scene, Chuckie struggled to get up and go to the Men's room to change. His outfit was covered with fake blood, which was corn syrup based, and he was actually Sticking to the floor. Angelica helped poor Finster up, and then went over to the bar to wash the "blood" out of her hands. Dil sat up after lying in the same position for hours while they kept re-filming this scene. He then began scooping up the pieces of white bowl, cocktail sauce, and raw chicken liver, which Phil dreamed up to play Dil's blown out skull and brains for the movie. It was actually quite effective. Tommy, Kimi, Phil and Lil were cleaning up the floor; they weren't messy because they had all been killed in previous scenes. Dil walked over and began helping.

With Chuckie in the restroom, and everyone on the floor, Kimi stood up, and slowly walked to Angelica, who was rubbing a stain off her shirt.

"Angelica, we have to talk."

Angelica was slightly surprised by the threatening tone in Kimi's voice.

"Yes?" Angelica began toweling her hands off, acting as slyly as she could.

Angelica was quite surprised when Kimi violently grabbed Angelica's arms and forced, no, threw her into the back room.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" Angelica hissed. She wanted to yell, but she wasn't quite sure where this outburst was going, so keeping a low profile was best.

Kimi pulled out her cell phone. She went to "pics," and after finding the photo she was searching for, shoved the phone in Angelica's direction.

Angelica was quite confused. There was a pic of her and Finster eating dinner. She was leaning across the table with a spoon in her hand; the other end of the spoon was in Chuckie's mouth. The reason Angelica was confused was the emotions this image conjured. She had a warm tingly feeling all through her guttiwuts. She could picture herself and Finster on some winter night ten years from now on a sofa reminiscing over that photograph, she and he, together.

The first words that escaped her mouth were " Oh we look _so_ cute together…"

…

Silence

Kimi attempted to gasp, but she was having trouble breathing, so making any noise whatsoever was entirely out of the question. She was looking quite bemused, and it sort of had Angelica nervous.

…

Silence

…

The current members of this chapter not in the storeroom suddenly became aware of extremely loud music.

It dawned on Tommy something was amiss. "Hey guys, where'd Kimi and Angelica go?"

Lil jumped like a scared puppy. "Uh, I think they had to discuss a party or something, in private."

"Okay?" Tommy would never quite understand girls.

Kimi had flicked on the radio on top of a stack of coffee beans and pointed the speakers towards the rest of the group; she had finally got her composure together well enough to speak and wanted to insure anything said would never leave this room.

"So this, this is serious? You really like my brother?" The skepticism and disbelief in Kimi's voice was unnerving, and it bothered Angelica.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Well, Chuckie isn't really known for his prowess with women, you aren't usually known for your ability to maintain relationships, and I don't want to see Chuckie hurt anymore by you, Angelica Pickles."

"Hurt Chuckie, I can't believe you'd even think that, I mean, I would never hurt Chuckie like that." Angelica felt her anger slowly intensify, and did nothing about it. She continued, feeding on her rage as we all enjoy doing from time to time. "Now listen here, I have known Charles Finster the Third for longer than you've been alive, he is the closest friend I have and if you have a problem with it than you can just go to hell."

Kimi began to defend herself, but Angelica has always preferred the monologue to discourse, so she continued, cutting Kimi off.

"And another thing, Just because I've dated a few losers and, just because some dumb girls don't see what a magnificent man Chuckie has become doesn't mean we would be destined to failure. Chuckie Finster is a remarkable man and I love him!"

It was a good thing "Crossroads" by Cream was blaring, otherwise the entire state could very well have heard that proclamation.

More silence. Lots of it.

Kimi was stunned. Her mind was stuck, replaying Angelica's outburst over and over.

Angelica stormed out of the backroom and marched out of the Java Lava.

Tommy, Phil, Dil, and Chuckie all exchanged confused looks.

Lil walked to the back room, clicked of the radio, and put her hand on Kimi's shoulder.

"Is everything okay Kimi?" Lil asked hesitantly.

"No Lil, It's far worse than I feared."

-----Oh, cliffhanger, provocative. All right, I've got lots of ideas, just no good ones. I will try to update as soon as I can, but I might direct some of this energy towards the One-Shot that's 1/3rd the way done. Happy Thanksgiving, and God Bless.

Jackie-Boy 222


	9. Chapter 9: It Won't End

First and foremost; thanks everyone who reviewed. They took time out of their busy time to write kind words about my stories. It means a lot to me. Also, everyone who reviewed "His Daughter's Hand," I am working on a second chapter. But give it time. I ain't a freakin' rocket surgeon.

Long time no see, faithful reader. About halfway through I wrote myself into a hole and stayed their for two weeks. Been neglecting my responsibilities, feeling awful about it. Hope you accept this peace offering.

A.N. Okay, Son-of-a-bitchin' Mac won't let me update my profile. Rat bastard. So I used the work computer. Check it out. Nothing beats bourbon on the rocks and a myspace page.

Here we are, Chapter 9, this story will not die.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Not a thing.

Chuckie slowly walked the steps to Angelica's house. He had taken these steps before, many times. "It's safe," he assured himself, "we're welcome here."

He knocked on the door and fidgeted nervously for a moment. What had happened? When had things become so strange? Was this a date, or just some friends watching movies?

His mind was still sorting things when the door opened, startling poor Chuckie. He was about to greet Angelica, but before he could speak, he was pulled inside. He tried to collect his thoughts while things were happening. He heard the door slam and before he knew it, he and Angelica were crouched in the floor behind the sofa; Angelica was acting strange.

"Were you followed?" She hissed.

"What?" Chuckie was trying to decide whether to laugh or not, unfortunately, he was chuckling.

"Chuckie, this is serious, were you followed?" Chuckie shook his head, trying very hard not to laugh. "Good, good."

Angelica could tell Chuckie wasn't taking this too seriously, in fact, he was giggling.

"Angelica," He paused, laughter snorting out momentarily, "What is going on?"

Finster was not taking this seriously. Angelica was losing her temper. Might as well lay it out for him. "What's going on? What's going on! Your meddling sister, that's what's going on! She followed us out, she knows. No telling who else knows," She paused to catch her breath, "Lil and Suzie must know, considering they were together last night. Damn it Finster, they're on to us!"

Chuckie was taken back for a moment. Millions of questions scoured his brain and his mind was traveling at uncharted and untraceable speeds when, suddenly and unexpectedly, he was confronted with only one true question. It hadn't ever really occurred to him, and it just popped in there, rather haphazardly, some would call it a fluke. It just, popped in there. Now it bothered him. Now it bothered him to the point of insanity. He really wished this thought hadn't occurred to him, but it had, and now there was no letting it go.

"And how does that make you feel?" Son of a Bitch. Here's your shovel, Chuck, just keep digging yourself deeper.

Angelica was slightly confused, and confused is a feeling she's never really liked, "What do you mean?" The tone in her voice confirmed Chuckie's greatest fear; there was no backing out of this now.

"Well, are you angry, upset, embarrassed? Having the world know we shared a wonderful dinner, is that such an awful concept?" Chuckie sounded simultaneously nervous, demanding, and, and wounded somehow. Hurt. Though she was slightly confused still, the sadness in Finster's voice was far worse that the confusion, and possibly the worst thing she had ever heard. It made her physically nauseous to hear Finster sound so upset.

But.

The question was valid.

It was more than valid, it was rather important. What was Angelica freaking out about?

"No Finster," she sighed, "I'm, I'm a little scared. What if we _do_, you know, start seeing each other, and it tanks? What happens to us? I like spending time with you, but I don't want to risk sacrificing our friendship to find out if there's anything else to it." There was silence. They stared at each other for a few moments. Chuckie was reflecting on Angelica's words, Angelica was thinking about the last few weeks. Chuckie was about to say something, but a crashing roar from upstairs broke the calm.

In what could only be described as a large Rock and Roll explosion, or a Heavy Metal fart, any calm in the house was destroyed. Angelica rolled her eyes and covered her ears.

"It's Saturday, isn't it?" Chuckie nodded, "It's Saturday, which means Dad cracked out the vinyl, c'mon, let's leave."

Angelica hollered to her parents that she was going to seek entertainment elsewhere. As they left, Chuckie could have sworn that he heard Drew sing something to the extent of "The Canadian Mounties are a Police force that work," or something like that. Standing on the porch, Chuckie shuffled his feet, looking at the ground with intense interest.

"So Angie, what do you want to do?" He asked with his usual trepidation. After deciding not to scold him for the use of a nickname, Angelica suggested hitting the movies.

Chuckie and Angelica entered the lobby, and Angelica was instantly upset. It was Saturday, and the Theater was only showing old movies. Angelica didn't know anything about old movies. They were in time to catch the showing of either "Godfather," "The Deer Hunter," or "Airplane!" Being under eighteen, the choice was fairly obvious. Chuckie bought popcorn, red licorice, and two cherry Cokes; and made their way to their seats.

Angelica was surprised at how much she actually enjoyed "Airplane!," Despite it being so old. There was only one odd part, and that was about half way through, when Chuckie put his arm around her. He didn't even pretend to yawn; he just put his arm around her. What surprised Chuckie was when Angelica leaned into him, and what surprised her was how comfortable he was. They laughed at the silly jokes, ("We have to get this woman to a hospital." "A hospital, what is it?" "It's a big white building with patients, but that's not important.") and were surprised at how natural things seemed.

The film ended, and Chuckie and Angelica rose to leave. Unbeknownst to anyone else, Tommy and Lil sat in the back row, watching the credits. Tommy had felt the urge to go see a film, and Lil was happy to accompany him.

Anywho, Lil was thanking Tommy for a nice evening, when Tommy, for lack of a better word, yelped. He yelped, faithful reader, because he saw his cousin, his evil, vicious cousin, walking with Chuckie, with Chuckie's arm around her. Her head was laying on Chuck's shoulder. So he yelped.

"Chuckie, Angelica?!" His voice was a mixture of shock and confusion. Angelica and Chuckie froze. They stood upright, unmoving, yet still holding hands. Chuckie felt the need to speak.

"Hey, T. Uh, how's it going. Good movie, huh. Hey Lil, uh, guys…" He faded off. Small talk was useless.

"Angelica, what are you doing?" Tommy pressed. His eyes were intense, yet slightly puzzled.

"Uh, Chuckie and I _were_ leaving to grab some food, what are you doing? Angelica put her arm around Finster, and leaned on him. "After our Fancy dinner last night, how about something light, Arby's maybe."

"Chuckie, What is wrong with you, you can't do this, it's Angelica! It's not- Angelica's- what is- Lil; back me up here."

"Actually Tommy, they seemed to have a good time last night, so-"

"Wait, what?" Awkward silence. "You saw them last night? And nobody told me? Chuckie, are you mad?"

"You know Tommy," Chuckie spoke up, "I actually, really, uh, enjoy spending time with Angelica, and I, uh, really like her, so I intend to, uh, keep spending time, with her…" Chuckie filtered off. Angelica was so very close to swooning. She leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek. For a singular brief moment, Chuckie wondered whether it was a 'thanks for the movie and standing up for me' type-kiss or a 'let's screw with Tommy' kiss. He then decided it was unimportant. Angelica started to drag him out, he waved goodbye to Tommy and Lil, and left.

When the evening was at an end, Chuckie walked those same steps to Angelica's, those same steps he'd taken many times before. Standing on the porch, the night seemed calm, with the possible exception of "The Hellion/Electric Eye" by Judas Priest floating down.

Angelica rolled her eyes again. Parents.

"Well, Chuckie, thanks again for another wonderful evening. And defending my to Tommy, I know he's your friend." She paused, popped another tic-tac and crunched down on it. This had been bothering Chuckie all night, she was like a fiend with that tic-tac box. She gave him a few on the walk home, but she had been downing those things like she was starving.

"Goodnight Angelica." He mumbled. He was about to leave when he noticed Angelica was, ticked. Realizing it would probably be best to say nothing, he spoke. "Are you uh, okay?"

She sighed, "Finster, sometimes you are so damn frustrating." She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him. A big, heavy, emotional-type kiss. Chuckie was confused for a moment, but whatever he was thinking, he let it go. He leaned forward slightly. If this were a movie made somewhere between 1930 and 1955, this is where it would end. Sure Chuckie was no Bogart, but it was still very impressive.

Tommy was walking Lil home as they came upon Angelica's house. He had been venting all evening, and Lil was slightly pleased when he stopped talking. But she followed his gaze to Angelica's Porch, where Chuckie and Angelica were having a _very_ PG-13 moment. Angelica was starting to wrap her leg around Chuckie's. This kiss was getting far to hardcore for this Fic. (Yes, there was tongue) Tommy went bolting off like a Meatloaf album (Bat out of Hell) and Lil soon followed.

Angelica broke the kiss off first. "Did (gasp) did you hear something?"

Chuckie said nothing. He had heard nothing. Not a thing. Not even the radio blare from Drew's record player. (The Rime of the Ancient Mariner, Iron Maiden) All he heard was his heart, racing like a horse at Churchill Downs.

"Wow…" Chuckie stood, mouth agape breathing heavy.

She kissed Finster on the cheek once more, and closed his jaw with her index finger.

"Well, goodnight Dear." She said abruptly. She disappeared inside as quickly as she possibly could, leaving poor Finster to collect his thoughts. It took him a few minutes before he could leave.

----Well damn, that took about a month to write. About three weeks too long. I hope to never do that to you again. Last week, after being stuck on their conversation in the living room for two weeks, I broke out my Record collection, and inadvertently saved my Fic.

Drew's first album is side one of "Tyranny and Mutation" By the Blue Oyster Cult. Yes the song, "The Red and The Black" is about the Royal Canadian Mounted Police; and is quite possibly the finest song written about the Royal Canadian Mounted Police ever.

Well, That's it. Hope you liked it. If not, let me know. I'll tweak it. Take care, God Bless.

--Jackie-Boy


	10. Chapter 10: Rest

Tommy's Movie Chapter 10: Rest (Ye Gods, Double Digits)

-Author's note: I do _Not_ own Rugrats, quit hounding me Nickelodeon! Go get your money elsewhere!!!

-A.N. II: It's been what, three months now dammit, and I've been hiding out like some crazed recluse, refusing to work. I will be amazed if I have any readers left, if you all haven't left me for better writers. I got a PS3 so I have no free time. Been working and going to school and playing guitar non-stop. And Drinking; but hell, this is the Internet; I can be honest with you people. But I'm not an Alcoholic.

Alcoholics go to meetings.

-A.N. III: Ani Thompson; that is, WAY too much excitement. You've put me in a position where I, I should just go home. There is nothing I can do but completely screw up the Writer/reader relationship. Nothing I put on Mac will be worth that much excitement; nothing I do in life will be worth that much excitement. That's a lot of Goddamn pressure. But, here it is, nonetheless. People can thank yr. all caps Distress message for my inspiration, but don't expect much, it's 12:30 and I have to get up tomorrow.

So, dedicated to Ani Thompson, Chapter 10, with no end in sight.

(By the way, I basically, well not basically, I stole the Dog/Egg thing, word for word of it, from Hunter S. Thompson. It appears in _Hey Rube_, a collection of some of his finest work. So apologies to HST, the finest non-fiction author of all time.)

-Reservoir Rats Chapter 10

Rest. He desperately needed rest, and the first step was to calm down. But Chuckie Finster was never really calm, and so he hardly ever rested. He Worried. And right now he was worried about sleep.

Studies have shown that 6-8 hours is the minimum amount of time people should allow themselves for sleep. Full, deep, restful sleep. Sound sleep.

Chuckie was never a sound sleeper. With so much to worry about, it was just by the Grace of God he slept at all. So when sleep would not come, he would think, and hope his thoughts would drift to nice things.

They immediately went to Angelica, which was nice. So he reflected on Angelica, and his "relationship" with her. The past few days had really been great, all this time connecting with her in new ways made him truly, and really, Happy. And it had been so long since Chuckie was this happy; he chose to think about happiness until he was asleep.

Happy.

Happy.

Happy.

So why was Tommy upset?

Damn, he was almost asleep too; now this nonsense comes back to haunt him. When he saw Tommy at the theater, Tommy looked flabbergasted (Coolest Word Ever), shocked, damn near irate even. He and Tommy were friends, so why should Tommy be so against his happiness. Sure, Angelica had her, well, "rough spots," but surely Tommy knew how sweet Angelica really was. So why would T be so against the Idea of Chuckie/Angelica?

Maybe he just needs to warm up to the idea, Chuckie thought. It certainly is an unusual idea. No, not unusual; scandalous. Chuckie thought back to the look on Tommy's face at the theater. Tommy had a look of total confusion, as if he had just heard a dog speak perfect English for thirty or forty seconds. _That will get your attention for sure… Some people are permanently destabilized by it: nothing they see with their own eyes will ever seem quite the same to them again. As in "I know the object I'm looking at is an Egg-but I also know that if it talks to me like a person, then it is not an Egg."_

Where had Chuckie read/stolen that Analogy (A.N III); he couldn't remember. It wasn't important.

Now Chuckie was hungry.

He tossed angrily in his bed, seeking the cool side of the pillow. He was thinking about eggs and he had no clue how he got there. Oh yeah, he was thinking about Tommy. What was he thinking about? He honestly couldn't remember. How had he lost his memory? Had he divided by zero? Oh hell. There was no chance of sleep now.

He sat up in his bed and stared out the window. Between the Darkness and the absence of eyeglasses, everything had taken on a fuzzy haze, and Chuckie was amazed at how beautiful everything was. After just a few moments now he found himself thing about Angelica again. He fell back down onto his bed, a reassuring **Whoomf** type noise (I tested this, just now; Whoomf is the proper spelling of the noise my bed makes you just, you just have to say it really fast. I'll wait) informing him he was still awake. So he stares at the ceiling, hoping his mind will shut off. It doesn't.

Rest.

Nothing.

So his thoughts drift off once more. The Movie. The miserable, derogated, film that Tommy had thought up all by his lonesome. It had just about driven the whole gang nuts. And Hell, The Showing was a week away, with no logical closure point in sight. It could end either way, the ending with Chuckie dying, or the ending with Angelica Dying. And neither ending was that good anyway!

So he went over it in his head. How to keep everyone alive? Well, no, that wouldn't work… Maybe; no, no, that would not work either. Damn. Tommy had written what, by all accounts, was a fairly good movie in a few short weeks. The least Chuckie could do was help finish it. For Tommy, who was his best friend; he deserved his chance to shine. For Angelica, who, uh, who he had feelings that he still needed to work out: she deserved a decent role. Hell, for Lil, who deserved to be happy with Tommy, together-like.

Chuckie shot up in his bed. He put on his glasses, climbed out of bed, and snuck downstairs. He fixed himself a glass of iced tea, grabbed four of the fattest grapefruit he had, and headed to his room. He sat at his desk, fired up his Mac, and proceeded to type.

Nothing.

Creative writing was never his strong suit. So he just started typing. Then tweaking what he typed. And before he knew it, faithful reader, he had spent all night on his computer.

He finally nodded off at around 3:30 or so, asleep at his desk, the gory festoons and skins of six dead grapefruit and two oranges strew. Chuckie was finally getting the sleep that had been eluding him all night. And for the moment, at least, Chuckie had some rest.

Done. The plot will resume in the next week or so. It's just settling back into the habit of writing. Oh yeah, My sister got engaged. I might just be tempted to add another chapter to His Daughter's Hand, if inspiration strikes. Apologies once again to Hunter S. Thompson, I just love his wordplay.

Take care, and I truly appreciate your reading this.

To my greatest fans,

-Stuntman Jack.


	11. Chapter 11: Meanwhile

Reservoir Rats Chapter 11

Reservoir Rats Chapter 11

(A.N: Been long gone. Had to pay for dog surgery, Cancer. 620.75 later, plus 80 for pills, she has a tube in her side, so I have neglected my writing. Sue me, I dare you.)

Six months. Six months this story has been thus far. Thanks for sticking around. I mean it. Thank you for your kind words, thank you for reading, and thanks for not abandoning me.

Seriously, Thanks.

This Chapter has more Tommy than any of my previous chapters, new perspective, and all that Cal. Been reading a lot, listening to Warren Zevon.

-Listen to Warren Zevon.

A.N: I do not own Rugrats; nor would I, for Nickelodeon has committed some egregious sins with the franchise, and I could not save it, even with my superior skill.

Chapter 11

While Chuckie slept the day away, Tommy was forced into a deep, introspective mood this day. He was alone, at home, watching his movie.

He'd have to brighten up this scene; the lighting was just terrible. There was no real contrast, all dark-like; it was very similar to playing Resident Evil.

Tommy was all set to go; he has a huge Orange soda, a bag of funyuns, and a CD of whatever poser music you kids listen to these days (In my day, it was _Vanilla Ice_ and _Marky Mark,_ And he's a freakin' Oscar nominated Badass. What has the world come to?). Working, especially tedious boring work like this, usually bored him; today, he was glad.

Last night he had verbally attacked his cousin and his best friend. He was none too proud of himself for it and he could try to straighten himself out while he worked. And on top of all that, he still didn't have an ending.

He had just finished filtering out the harsh lighting when there came a knock at his door. Knock is the wrong word; a light rapping is more accurate. He granted welcome, half knowing who it was.

"Hey Tommy," Lil said, having a seat on Tommy's bed, "how's it going?" Lil had become a semi-permanent fixture in the Pickles' home over the past few weeks. Hanging around Tommy, chatting with Tommy, watching films with Tommy, and what have you. Tommy wasn't quite sure how to deal with this sudden attention. He _knew_ their had to be a reason for her hanging around, Tommy wasn't quite sure why. He _knew_ Lil was his friend, and only a friend. Yet there she was, sitting on his bed. Her companionship over the past few weeks had been nice. It had been different, though. Different than it had been.

Lil was one of his group, The Group of Her, Phil, Chuckie, Kim, Dil, and himself. Angelica and Suzie were also members, on the outskirts due to their age, but still members. Yet, over the past, well, year or so, she had changed. Dressing far more lady-like than she used to, make-up, perfume, and the like.

Not that Tommy minded, though. Ho Ho, on the contrary. As he sat, starring at her, he began feeling groovy all over-like. Little hearts began dancing about his vision. It was dawning on him being a teenager had its bummers. Yet, as he found his eyes drifting down-ways, it had his perks. It was at this time he realized Lil was talking to him.

"Tommy!"

This isn't going to be pretty.

"Lil, Lil, Yes how are you doing? Good Good. Yes, How you've been. I like you- Friend, you're the Breast-Best, best friend."

"Tommy, you're sweating."

"Huh, How'd that happen? It's hot! Hot hot hot. Smokin' hot. You. Hot. You must be. If it gets any hooter outside- hotter outside I won't be able to stand it. Funyun?"

"Tommy, I think I know what's bothering you, I understand. I don't blame you."

"Really?"

"Yes, You're still upset about Chuckie & Angelica."

"I am? Oh, yeah, Hell yeah, definitely."

"If you want to get over it, you need to go talk to him. Make amends. He's your buddy. Your bro. This must be difficult, being "All Grown Up."

Lil stood up, walked over to Tommy and gave him a hug. Then they kinda just stood there.

He couldn't help it.

It just popped in there.

He tried… He tried to stop himself.

It was a bad idea.

A Bad Idea.

He could not stop himself.

He leaned over and kissed Lil. Not a heavy, lusty kiss. Just a quick little zap of a kiss. To the outside observer it would seem little more than a chaste little encounter between to teens, nothing more.

Lil and Tommy stared at each other. Lil stepped back, and stared.

Before Tommy could apologize, Lil, in one quick gazelle-like motion, leapt across the room kissed him. Tommy was more than shocked as he was knocked to the floor.

Seriously, She knocked his ass _down._

Phil and Dil were downstairs playing whatever bad games you kids play these days (_Starfox 64, Goldeneye_, these were games my friend), when they heard a loud thud from upstairs.

…

"What was that?" Phil asked, looking up at the ceiling.

…

"T probably passed out from boredom. I think his mind is gone, he's gone completely sideways."

…

"Should we perhaps go check on him?"

"Oh, I suppose." Dil shrugged as they paused their play. They got to the stairs when, Tommy and Lil, like a house of fire, came running down and bolted out the door. Dil and Phil were left a bit confused.

"What was that?" Dil asked; a bit befuddled about the events going down.

"Nuts to that, were they holding hands?"

Tommy and Phil were going to check on Chuckie. In their interlude, they had discussed a couple of things; but Lil had convinced Tommy (more or less) that patching things up with Chuckie would be good for him.

They arrived at the Finster residence only to find it empty. No Kimi, no Chazz, nobody. They called out and after receiving no reply, Tommy called Chuckie's cellular-type phone, hoping to find his friend and, well, not apologize; make amends, I guess. They were both surprised to hear ringing from upstairs. Up the stairs they went, tracking the ringing of Chuckie's phone. What they found horrified them.

Chuckie was asleep at his computer, wearing a t-shirt and pajama bottoms, covered with fruit remains and cheese doodles and empty Yoohoo bottles about.

Tommy was about to wake him when he glanced at Chuckie's computer. His Screensaver was going strong. It was photos. Photos of all the gang through the ages; their parents, birthday parties, school functions, and all that cal.

He hit the mouse to wake up the computer. Up popped a Word document. Curiosity striking, Tommy began to read.

The Dialogue was God-awful.

The dénouement seemed forced and awkward.

Yet, it was a happy ending. And it could work.

Chuckie woke up. Without his glasses on his face, everything was a blur.

But there were people in his room.

Chuckie screamed.

--Whoo. Done. Thank Christ. The next chapter will take a while. A long while. It's the film itself. Be patient, I beg of you.

Between the time I started up top and now, my dog had to go back to the vet's office. Problems with healing, rashes and such. She's fine.

But Medicated.

Have you ever seen a high Boston Terrier?

Funniest thing… Ever.

Take care my friends.

Mahalo,

John Mills Jr.


	12. Chapter 12 Part I

Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Not dead yet.

Disclaimer: I do not own Rugrats. I am 21 years old and writing Rugrats fan fiction. I am one sad son of a bitch.

A.N: All right, it's a long one, so grab some coffee' if you're into that sort of thing. Long time no update. School, work, usual excuses. I wanted to update this as one chapter, but the death threats have forced my hand. The movie will be in parts.. (A.N: I always assumed they lived in CA. due to R.V. Having Fun Yet. I know nothing about Ca.)

My dog died. June 18, 2008. Rage. Outrageous Ruten Mills. Miss Rageous. Meesa Rageous, Ragey Baby. My little Slice of Angel food cake Heaven. She was born November 13, 1995, and I got her March 10, 1996. She was so tired. It has been three months and every day I wake up hoping the pain stops. And every night I tell myself it will get better. If I have to spend the next forty or so years waking up without her, I don't know what I'll do. There is no good news; there is no light at the end of the tunnel. There is just gnawing loneliness until we die. Sonofabitch. I miss my dog.

I got her cremated, and I've been taking her places with me, (the Mall, Ruby Tuesdays, work) it's kinda cool.

My sister got Married. Sept. 13th. Wow. I'm so happy for her. I also got some good stuff for "His Daughter's Hand," but seeing how long it takes me to update, don't hold yr. breath.

Anywho, I'll shut up now.

Mahalo.

Chapter 12

The lights were raised at the end of the fourth entry of Mr. Liotta's film contest, and light applause followed. The audience shifted, people rose to stretch their legs and began talking amongst themselves. Mr. Liotta walked onstage, the quiet, little shuffle he was so famous for. Keen eyes will notice, and would have noticed, he was wearing a different t-shirt. In fact he had changed shirts between each movie. Tommy made a mental note of it, thinking it exceptionally cool.

"Alright folks," Mr. Liotta said, "this last film is from our youngest director here, a Mr. Tommy Pickles. Tommy Pickles? Is that a real name? You made that up didn't you, that sounds so fake."

"Anywho, real or not, here is. Reservoir Rats. Really; that's it? Reservoir Rats?"

The Auditorium darkened the film started. Chuckie was petrified.

Here were like, 300 people, and they were going to see Chuckie attempt to act. He sunk down in his seat, shifting nervously. He wanted to die, when he felt a hand clasp his. He looked over to Angelica, who was smiling at him. Okay, so things aren't that bad.

A Jar of Pickles Film

Reservoir Rats

The Players

Chuckie Finster: Det. Warren Bronson

Tommy Pickles: Hunter Carlin

Dil Pickles: Niko

Angelica Pickles: Anita Carlin

Lil DeVille: Maria Santos

Phil DeVille: Anthony Santos

Shot and Chopped by

Tommy Pickles

Det. Warren Bronson was nervous. Hell, he was always nervous. He stood in front of the door of his captain, ran his hands down the front of his suit, straighten his tie, and knocked twice.

"Enter." A voice replied.

"Hello Capitan." Warren said.

"Detective," The Capitan (Suzie Carmichael) greeted, "so, formalities, or just straight to the good news."

"There's good news?" Warren asked.

"All right, Santos is putting together a small strongarm group and we can get a guy in undercover. You want in?"

Warren sat there in silence.

"I mean Warren, it's what you've always wanted and-"

"Is this because I deserve it, or; you know. Because you crushed me and tore me to pieces-"

"Look, I am sorry-"

"And threw every piece into a fire-"

"Warren! Look; some people grow apart over time, and sometimes; they were never that together in the first place. Now I am sorry, but this is what you want, right? This is what you've always wanted!"

They stood there in silence. Warren sat down, looked at the ceiling and sighed.

"Look Warren, you'll get a bank account, five thousand dollars, a cell phone and that's about it." She slid a file to him, and he began thumbing through it. "Your name's Warren Durden, you did three years on a weapons charge in Arizona, and three years ago you came out to Long Beach for a fresh start."

"It says here I have a tattoo?"

"Airbrush, it'll last three weeks, then we'll keep touching it up as long as it takes."

"This guy sounds like a thug."

The Capitan crossed her arms. Warren thumbed through the file once more, laid it on the desk, and rose.

"Okay, sure. I'm in."

(Fade Out)

Two Weeks Later

The Bus Depot

Warren Bronson stepped off the bus, shielded his eyes from the sun, slung his olive drab duffel over his shoulder, switched the silver metal case to the other hand, and continued walking. His hair was gelled back, an obviously fake gold hoop in his left ear. He was wearing a pale yellow Hawaiian shirt and pale blue jeans. A panther (expertly drawn by Lil) was poised on the inside of his left forearm. He made his way over to the very back of a parking lot to a (Betty's) Ford Crown Victoria. Standing there were two men. One of them (Tommy) was leaning against the car, gray slacks, light blue shirt, gray sports coat; his hair short, tidy, and well kept. The other (Dil) wore a red polo shirt and jeans; his hair, not really parted, but pulled to one side was matted and unclean and stringy. (Think Heath Ledger in _The Dark Knight_)

As Warren approached, the well-groomed man stepped forward and stuck out his hand.

"Mr. Durden," he paused for a moment, waiting until Warren shook his hand, "My name is Mr. Carlin, call me Hunter. This is Niko. (Nee-ko) Niko don't speak much English." Warren looked towards Niko, and the camera cuts to Niko's eyes (Tommy is amazed how effective this shot is) and holds for a moment.

"So, Warren; how was the bus?"

"I'd like to tell you it was nice, but it was a bus for three hours."

Hunter grinned "Oh yeah, public transportation at its finest." Hunter nodded his head to Niko, who walked over (Tommy, actually watching the movie as a movie, is amazed how creepy his brother is, even his walk is slightly off) and started patting Warren down.

"Oh c'mon man; really?" Warren Pleaded. Niko took out Warren's wallet and cell phone and threw them at Hunter. Hunter pulled up Warren's contacts:

MOTHER

He looked a little frustrated that that was the only contact on the list. Hunter threw the phone at Warren. "Call your Mother."

Warren Pressed send. The camera cut to the Captain answering a phone. Back to Warren:

"Hey Ma, just called to let you know I got off the bus… Yeah I got a job… yeah, yeah; a straight job… really Ma, I'm good… Shipping and unloading, I guess… listen, gotta go, my new boss is here, yeah love you too Ma, bye." He shut the phone and looked at Hunter. "Thanks man, now I gotta_ call_ her later." He put the phone in his pocket and rolled his eyes.

Hunter chuckled. Niko, maybe Niko didn't speak much English, but he must've thought that was funny, because he started laughing, a large, not deep, not high-pitched, but loud, empty.

Warren smiled. "So, Who's Crown Vic?" Warren asked, as he walked around it. He eyed the tires.

"It belongs to my boss," Hunter called out, "That's right, you were a wheelman for a while, right? Well, Mr. Santos has a Lot of cars." He paused, "Religion says 'there are many rooms in my fathers house.' Well, there are many cars in my Boss's Garage."

Warren sighed, "Yeah, a wheelman, for a while there anyway."

Hunter whistled. Warren looked up just in time to catch the keys. (do you know how many takes it took Chuckie to catch the keys?) Hunter slid in the back seat, and Niko got in the back on the passenger side.

"How do you follow direction? Go on this road till Hearst Drive, go right on that, and go to the first non-Starbucks coffee place you find."

Warren sat his silver case on the passenger floor, grabbed his duffel, threw it in the front passenger seat, and got in. he turned around behind him to the back.

"Seatbelts guys, seatbelts." Hunter looked at Niko, shrugged, and they buckled their seatbelts. Warren reached over and opened his duffel, and heard a click behind him.

"…Easy man, just getting some tunes." He held up a disk and popped it in the player. "Rainy Day Woman # 12 & 35" by Bob Dylan came softly through. "Can't drive proper without some tunes." The car started rolling along. In the back seat, Hunter was tucking something in his coat, smiling. Niko started bobbing his head.

"I like Dylan." Hunter said. Almost as an afterthought, he added, "Sorry about the Gun."

"Ah, well. I'm not gonna get all broke up in the ass about it. Stuff happens. Can't be too careful in this line of work." They stopped at a light,

Warren finally put the car in park in front of Java Lava. He turned around.

"The owner, a guy named Larry, has not been paying protection money like he should. Three months late. There's a bat in the trunk. Go in there and make him take his medicine." Warren got out of the car, and Hunter grabbed his arm.

"And Warren. Have fun with it."

Warren popped the trunk. A Louisville slugger lay in the trunk.

"Alright Warren, you can do this. If you don't, they will _kill_ you." He grabbed the bat and started swinging. "We can do this, we are Marlon Brando, we rule."

The Java lava had not been really been redecorated except for some glass jars filled with beans and Stu behind the counter.

"Hey man, you can't come in here with that, man."

Warren started. "Oh really, Well let me go tell Hunter Carlin you won't serve me. He's right outside."

"Hunter's outside?"

"Yeah."

"Look, I'll have the money by Wednesday."

Warren started chuckling; "I sure hope so."

The bat swung into the jars of coffee beans at a wonderful crash. Stu screamed and hid under the counter.

"Do you see what happens?" The bat rushed into a stack of coffee cups (dollar store) and glass flew everywhere. (The jars of coffee beans and cups, the scene cost fourteen dollars)

"Do you see what happens Larry? Do you see what happens?" He started screaming. "IF YOU VALUE THE USE OF YOUR LEGS, YOU WILL HAVE THE MONEY TOMMOROW!" As he was screaming the sentence, Warren's voice went hoarse and his face was red. Warren left, slamming the bat into a red lamp. (Two dollars, goodwill)

Warren got into the car, sat the bat in the passenger seat and turned around. "Your money should be here tomorrow."

Hunter leaned his head back and sighed. "Far out man, far _freaking_ out. Did you hit him?"

"No, not really."

There was a pause. "Okay."

The car pulled off. The next scene takes place in Drew's home office. Phil sat behind the grand desk. The desk was a dark stain, and the whole room had a red and gold feel, red wallpaper, the dark stain was on all the furnishings, and the desk had the usual collection of a humidor, a green marble cigar ashtray, and some pens and a legal pad.

Phil was wearing a black short-sleeved button down shirt, and behind him hung a Currier & Ives print of a ship at sea. To Phil's right Kimi stood against the wall, arms crossed. She was wearing a black suit, white shirt, and a black tie. She had a katana in a red scabbard on her hip.

Seated across his desk was Hunter. Niko was behind him, leaning against the closed door.

"So Hunter, where's the new guy?"

"Outside, you want to meet him?"

"In a second. What do you think?"

"Uh, He likes music. Only cell phone contact was his mother."

"Good boy, takin' care of his mother like that. Trust him?"

"Dunno. Wilkes trusts him."

"Wilkes is a moron, couldn't pour piss out of a boot it I told him the instructions were on the heel. Wilkes' old man was good."

"Oh yeah."

"Shame he got sent up. I always thought Wilkes set his old man up. But, that's a problem for another day. How'd he do at Larry's?"

"Well, he didn't hurt Larry. That's a plus. Broke everything to holy hell, though."

"But he didn't hurt anyone?"

"No; but I think he could. If we can believe Wilkes at all, this kid could be the extra muscle we need to get the Tarintino's off our backs."

Phil streched back into his chair. He yawned, and rubbed his eyes. "… Send him in."

Hunter raised his arm and motioned to Niko. Niko opened the door and stepped out of the room. He walked out. A few moments later he returned with Warren. Hunter made the introductions.

"Warren, this is my boss, Anthony Santos. Anthony, Warren Durden."

"Warren; pleased to meet you, have a seat. Can Yoko fix you a drink?" He motioned to Kimi, who remained motionless.

"Uh, no thank you sir."

"Suit yourself. So, how was the bus ride?

"Pretty lame, actually. I was stuck-" Yoko walked over to Warren, Grabbed him by the back of his collar, ad pulled him up. She began patting him down.

"Oh come on man, again?" He pleaded. Yoko, seeming satisfied Warren was not carrying a weapon, returned to her post. Anthony started.

"Sorry about that kid. This is Yoko, Head of Security. Can't be too careful anymore. The former DA came in hear four months ago, carrying a Taurus 605 full of 158 grain Federal Hydra-Shoks. Those things have a 1240 fps muzzle velocity and in this office space would blow a crater in my chest. Miss Yoko saved my life." Warren looked over to Yoko, Who remained motionless. Anthony pulled a large (fake) handgun out of his desk drawer and sat it on his desk. "So, how'd you do at academy?

Warren looked up, puzzled. "What?"

"Who you workin' for. ATF, FBI?" He started to get louder.

"Hopefully I'll be working for you."

Anthony picked the Gun up off the desk. The camera shot to Warren as a click was heard.

"If I ever find out you're not being level with me, I will kill you. But first, I will torture you. They will never find the body. Just like Mr. DA."

Warren sat for a minute. "Look, I appreciate this chance, and I respect you a lot. But if you ever threaten me, or point a gun at me ever again; well, I might do something I regret…"

Now Anthony was sitting, silent, for what seemed like an eternity. "Fair enough, kid. Fair enough." He placed the gun back in the desk. "There, now we can act like grown-ups." He got up, walked over to the door, and opened it. "Listen, I'm having a dinner socal and a nice little card game tomorrow tonight, you should come." He handed Warren an envelope. Warren opened it. It was filled with cash. "Buy yourself some nice clothes though, I mean, 1978 was a good year and all, but try to look a little professional. Miss Yoko Will show you to your apartment."

Warren and Yoko were getting in a silver Mercedes (Charlotte's) and took off. Yoko was driving.

"So, uh Miss Yoko. Uh, how bout those Milwaukee Brewers? Think they got a shot this year?"

"Detective Bronson." She stated.

Warren's eyes were filled with terror. "Oh Please don't kill me." He tried to cry, but it escaped only as a whisper.

"Detective Bronson, I am Special Agent Gail Bateman, FBI."

Warren let out a sigh of relief. "Oh thank God."

"I was heading this investigation, but now that I'm Tony's- uh; Anthony's, head of security, I can't track what activities he's responsible for, and what crimes Carlin's crew is responsible for. So you are to tell me what Carlin does for Santos, what he does for himself, and who else does he know."

The Car Pulled over to the curb. "And remember, if you have to do something uh, 'unsavory' to keep from blowing your cover, I suggest you do it. These people don't take chances. They are already unsure because Wilkes, the guy who got you in, is a thieving rat who sold out his own father."

"Great."

She handed him a key. "Well, Chin up, I'll be talking to you. Your stuff's already inside."

Warren looked around his apartment. It was a mattress on the floor, a closet, and a chest of drawers. His metal briefcase was on the floor. On hi mattress was a box, gift wrapped with a bow.

He opened it. Looked at the contents, and shook his head.

"A Taurus 605…"

He sat the box on his nightstand and walked over to his small silver case. He opened it.

The Record player was small yet powerful. The few records in the case were Rush's _2112_, Meatloaf's _Bat out of Hell_, and Warren Zevon's _Excitable Boy_. Warren smiled.

Anthony Santos sat at a table opposite Yoko, drinking drinks in candlelight.

"So Yoko, What'd you think? He a cop or something?"

"He seemed nice enough. Talked about baseball and music the entire trip. Seemed smart, but I don't think he's clever enough to be a cop." She paused to take a drink from the wine glass before her. (Grape juice) "I trust him more than that Niko though. That guy freaks me out."

Anthony laughed. "Don't worry about him love, instead, just worry about us." He smiled. She got up, sat on his lap, and put her arms around her neck.

"Yeah babe," she said, "I'll worry about us."

Fade Out.

Okay, end part one. As I said (maybe), I have been busy and stuck, so here's what I've got so far. See you soon, I hope.

Mahalo.


	13. Chapter XIII

Chapter Thirteen

13

Still writing

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Honest. I sold a mustang and bought a guitar. That's about it.

A.N. Hey hey kids, welcome back. This story's been up over a whole year? Yowza. Been doing the school thing, so busy. But, I've been getting mail from you guys, so here's some more of the movie. I have an actual Lady-Friend now, so been doing the whole Dating thing. At 22 it's about freaking time. I am currently recovering from a tonsillectomy, so if I don't finish a chapter now, I really am doomed.

A.N. II. The Problem with writing a movie is, you don't get inner monologue in a movie. I can't go into what they are thinking so I have to tell the story other ways; that's why the Shining Book was So much better than the movie; INTERNAL CONFLICT. So, I'm sorry for the wait. Stop calling here.

Chapter 13

The next scene opens with Warren (Chuckie), Hunter (Tommy), Anthony (Phil), and Niko (Dil) were sitting around the Java Lava, enjoying some coffee-type beverages and talking. Niko and Anthony were leaned forward, listening to Hunter. Warren was laid back in his chair, looking at the ceiling. We are catching them in mid-conversation.

"So I have my knee on his chest, right. And I'm just pummeling him in the parking lot, bare-fisted like. And I suddenly get this wave of nausea, and I think I'm gonna be sick…"

Anthony started chuckling, "I don't want to hear this."

"So I says to the guy, 'hang on a second,' and I stand up and start to breathe, hang my head down and the guy starts to scamper away. So I walk over to him, "Hey man, where are ya goin'? Come back here," and I shuffle over to him and he suddenly jumps up, and he's got a broken bottle in his hand, and he lunges at me."

Warren leans forward across the table. "So what'd you do?"

Hunter took a sip of coffee. "Shot him in the kneecaps. Went to my car, took some tums. came back. "

Anthony sat up, "And that's, why you never insult the life of Philip Habib."

Niko got up and walked to the counter, Anthony turned to Hunter. "So, I hear you are taking Maria out again. When will your lady fair arrive?"

Hunter shuffled in his chair. "Well, I think she should be here any minute. We are going to try that new Thai place, opened by the Starbucks on Second St." 

"Which Starbucks, there's three there?"

"The one across from the used book store…"

"Oh, yeah. Let me know how that goes, I'm always looking for good restaurants."

There was a pause.

"And Hunter, you break my sister's heart, I'll choke you to death with my bare hands."

"Of course."

Niko came back with everyone's coffee. Sat down and started sipping. He stopped, and leaned over to Hunter, and then whispered into his ear."

"Oh Warren, Niko wants to know what we were listening to in the car."

Warren snapped back to reality. "Uh, Meatloaf's 'Bat out of Hell.' Did he like it?"

Niko smiled and gave a 'thumbs up' sign to Warren.

Warren continued, "If you want, Niko, I could make you a copy of it?"

Niko nodded eagerly.

"That reminds me, Warren," Hunter started, "My sister's coming back to town, she's been in London for the past six months, could you pick her up at the airport?"

"Uh, I'm guessing this isn't a favor. It is a request."

"Righty-O, Man."

"All right, fine. Anything for you, Bossman."

Anthony started laughing, "Better you than me."

Chuckie had a confused look on his face.

"Anita's a major pain-in-the-ass." Hunter looked over at Anthony.

"Well, she is. Prove me wrong."

Hunter started to say something, then stopped.

"Ah-ha, see, told you. Total Witch. Domineering control freak, manipulative, shame she doesn't work for me." Anthony started chuckling.

Warren shuffled in his chair. "So, what does she do?"

Hunter started, "She works, owns, a Record company. She is; she's very self-motivated." Anthony raised his eyebrows and made his eyes big. "You gonna be okay with this?"

Warren leaned forward. "Women terrify me."

Anthony sighed. Hunter shook his head.

"Well, have fun. See you boys tomorrow." Anthony stood up, the looked pleasantly surprised. "Hey Sis, How's things?"

Maria (Lil) hugged him lightly. "Hey guys, how is it going?" she looked at Warren, "Who's the new guy?"

Warren stood up, extended his hand. "I'm Warren. Miss. Pleased to meet you."

Warren took his seat, and Hunter pulled up a chair for Maria

"So," Anthony spoke up, "How's Mom."

"You know her, wants to know why her big shot son never visits her no more."

Anthony shrugged. "You know, work and all. Warren, this is Maria, my sister. Warren's going to be helping us out for a while."

Hunter spoke up, "Shit."

Anthony turned to him, "What?"

"Cop"

"No"

"Yes"

Anthony looked over to the door. "Shit."

Warren looked towards the door. Harold was standing in the doorway, looking around. He was wearing a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, a green tie, and kakis. He casually walks over to Anthony's table.

"Well, I was going to get some coffee, but I may need to call the health inspector, because I think this place has vermin."

Hunter chuckles "Real funny Eddie. Hey, don't you have a donut to beat into submission or something. Warren; Detective Penn here holds the state record for most complaints of police brutality filed against an officer."

Eddie looks at Warren.

"Warren Durden. What was it, was it guns or drugs? I can't remember."

Warren leered at him. "I was, once incarcerated for a weapons charge, but that was a while ago. How's your Dad?"

Eddie looked at his Watch. "It's noon, so, drinking wine and watching the weather channel."

Warren looked at his peers. "Eddie and I used to be little neighborhood hoodlums together. Then he became a real prick in middle school and after graduating, decided to get paid for it."

Eddie chuckled "Yeah, and you have always been a model citizen. What's the matter Tony? Couldn't even find decent scum." He slapped his hands on Warren's back. "Warren is a nobody, even as far as you go. What does he do, for you exactly?"

Anthony glared at the cop. "Mr. Durden is my driver."

"Ah, is that so."

Warren clenched his teeth. "Would you kindly take your hand off me."

Eddie started ruffling Warren's hair "Don't get so touchy, just kidding around with ya."

He picked up Warren's cup of coffee and took a gulp. He began circling the table.

"I have this guy, strangled, dumped in the bay, and captain wants me to find out what I can. And do you know what? He owed Mr. Santos here a LOT of money. Now he's dead."

"Doesn't surprise me," Anthony spoke up, "a lot of people owe me money."

"Yeah. I'm surprised all my corpses don't owe you. They mostly get their money to Tarintino." Anthony Sneered. "You better keep an eye on Warren, he don't do drugs or embezzle or gamble, but he is a screw-up." He walked over to Warren, "and, he'll always be a screw-up." He put his hands on Warren's shoulders.

Warren spun around so fast it was phenomenal. The crack of Eddie's nose was deafening in the silence. (Snap a stick of celery, same noise) Eddie slammed Warren's face into the table, and then kicked his legs out, so Warren was on the floor, helpless. Eddie was breathing heavily.

"Warren Durden, You are under Arrest for assaulting a police officer." Niko lunged towards the cop, but Hunter held on to him. Anthony stood.

"Don't worry Warren, we'll take care of it."

Eddie's nose was bleeding. "Yeah, sure you will. C'mon Warren, let's go for a little ride."

Eddie handcuffed Warren on the floor, pulled him up, and tossed him on the counter. He patted up his legs and stopped.

"Uh Oh, what have we here." Eddie pulled a small folding knife from Warren's jeans. It was an assisted opening knife, Black scales, 4" non-serrated blade, Chinese knock-off; modeled after a Gerber.

"Well, Warren's coming for a ride, maybe we'll hang out for a while, catch up on old times. He'll call ya' soon."

He cuffed Warren's hand behind his back, and started. "You have the right to remain silent, and you probably should, ya mook. You have the right to an attorney, if you can't afford one, I will find you the dumbest bastard in the State.

Warren coughed. "So, you _are_ free to represent me."

Eddie sighed, and began to drag Warren away. Anthony (Phil, in case I have successfully confused you) walked over to Warren, hunched over, and looked him in the eyes.

Warren, Warren. You hang tight buddy. We'll get ya as soon as you can."

Eddie dragged Warren out to his car, threw him in the back so he was lying there, got in the front seat, and fastened his seatbelt. He started the car.

"Hey Warren."

"Hey Eddie. How's Trixie."

"Good, She says Hi."

Warren spit up a little blood. "Good, tell her I says hi. Your nose okay?"

"I'll be fine. Sorry about the face. You kinda leaned into that." He paused. "Am I a Prick?"

"As much as I'm a screw-up. Just drive man." He shuffled, well; not shuffled but just kinda flopped around in the back seat trying to get comfy. "You got any Tunes?"

Eddie held up a jewel case. "Johnny Cash?"

"Sun years, or later stuff?"

"Sun Years."

"Cool."

Warren, Eddie and the Captain were sitting around a desk, holding coffee cups. They stared at each other for a few minutes. The Capitan looked tired. Eddie had a bandage on the bridge of his nose, and Warren had a bandage on his nose, his lip was a little bloody. His white muscle undershirt had a couple of stains on it. There was an uneasy silence. Warren spoke up.

(A.N. I never liked the phrase "wife-beater" for undershirts; it makes them sound mean.)

"I think officer Penn should be removed from the case."

Eddie whined, "This is about the face, isn't it, I told you I didn't mean-"

Warred started louder "Detective Penn, in his investigative zeal, has overstepped the bounds of the law many times; when these things go to trial, I don't want anything "off-books" or not quite on the level for their Mob lawyers to use to get mistrials or even dismissals." He calmed himself, "And Eddie, with your colorful history, you would be, impeachable."

"Kiss my ass!"

"Look, boys, now is not the time and the place for this." The captain spoke up.

They sat there, stewing. Warren raised his hand. "So, uh, the Taurus I got you, what about it?"

The captain looked over her desk. "The Taurus 605 left Brazil last year. It was sold to Ellett Brothers, they're a distributor for a lot of gun stores all over America. They sold it to a Lewis Brothers gun store. It was then sold to a Kevin McCoy, Assistant District Attorney; and he went missing a few months ago." She sighed. "But, we have bigger problems."

"Like what?" Eddie looked up.

"Like how to get Warren out of prison."

Warren and Eddie looked at each other.

"Uh, You hit a cop in public. What the hell is wrong with you? That's guaranteed Jail time. How the hell do we get you back on the street without making it look like you talked?!"

Silence.

Silence.

Warren looked at Eddie.

"Don't look at me man. I'm just a beat cop, you're the super cop. So come on Baretta."

Warren scoffed. "Baretta? The Cop who lived with a cockatoo?"

"What? That was a good show."

Warren started giggling. Eddie started laughing.

"What's wrong with you man?"

"What?"

"The guy who played Baretta killed his wife."

"What?"

The laughter continued. Tears were forming on Eddie's cheeks.

"He was acquitted."

The Captain slammed her hands on her desk. "Boys, I know it's hard, but please. Focus."

Eddie was having a hard time composing himself, so he took a couple of deep breaths. Warren decided to continue. "Look, I've been thinking about this. How to get out of jail scot-free." He cleared his throat. "I don't know a whole lot about the legal system, but I know cops. And thugs." He paused.

"Excessive. Use. Of. Force."

As soon as the last word dropped the Captain was out of her Chair.

"Oh HELL No!"

"Think about it, think about it, just a second now, don't fly off the handle. Eddie is overly rough; as is his way. I have a public defender present; they get angry, yelling, blah blah blah, I'm a free man.

Silence

Not as long as the last silence, but almost.

"And how do we do this? Huh, just let Eddie beat on you a little?"

"Uh; Yeah."

Eddie was lacing up boxing gloves in an empty room. Warren was sitting at a card table, going through some papers. He had some in his hand, and three stacks.

"Warren, what are you doing over there?"

"Well, while the Captain is finding a medic, she asked me to go through all the tip line calls from the neighborhood see if I can I.D. any shenanigans, see if Anthony's behind them." He gestured to the table ahead of him.

The Captain walked in carrying a first-aid kit. "Sorry, everybody knows you, they can't be involved in this. What did you find?"

He explained his system. "This pile here Anthony's hoods had nothing to do with. This one here, they are him. This third pile," he paused "are crimes I have been a party to."

Eddie rolled his eyes. "Nice."

Warren held up a piece of paper and waved it. "This tip's kinda odd. All it says is, 'Eddie, why aren't you intimate with your wife no more?' What's up with that, man?"

"Warren!" The Captain snapped. "You sure about this?"

"We got a choice? Eddie, next time, plant some pot on me or something. You know, something easy to get out of."

Warren got up, walked over to Eddie, put his hands at his sides, and clenched his fist

"Look man, don't warn me, just, whenever you're ready."

Eddie stood there, shook himself loose. "Warren; two years ago I would've enjoyed this. Not so much right now."

"Look, Eddie. I never realized I was testifying against you too. What the hell were you doing t-

The Punch made a wet smack against flesh. Warren dropped to the ground.

The Captain screamed. Warren took a few minutes to get up but he stumbled to his feet. Eddie stuck him in the Ribs. Hard.

Warren lay on the ground, panting and wheezing. He smiled. "Eddie. Kick me."

Warren was riding shotgun with Gail Bateman. (Yoko (Being played by Kimi, if you have forgotten)) She was finishing up a phone call. Warren was half asleep in the passenger seat, staring at a bottle of pills in his hand. (Don't worry kids, they're just red skittles) He had stitches in his forehead and under his eye, and a bandage on his nose. (Halloween tip: How to make fake stitches. Get heavy black string. Phil used fly fishing lead. Cut some tiny pieces and apply to head, crossed like itty-bitty x's. Tie two knots for each end and voila!) Gail was talking quietly.

"Well, he's asleep now, they gave him some pain pills." A pause. "Yeah, I thought he might have talked too, but he looks like shit." Another pause. "I got there and the Public defender was raising all sorts of Holy Hell. Calling them Nazis and such. Anyway He just walks out." Pause. "No, I wouldn't say he was scared of suing or testifying or anything, I just don't think he cared." She gave him a quick thumbs-up. "Alright well he's coming to, gotta go." A very long pause; then a very quick whisper. "I love you too, bye."

She beeped off her phone.

Warren looked over at her, and raised an eyebrow. His speech was a little sluggish. "What waz that lazzt part."

"Nothing, you're on drugs." She looked over at him. "That stuff really knocked you on your ass, didn't it?"

"Iza Lightweight."

"Well let's get you home buddy. Your actions, though not really well thought out, were very brave, and show a detective committed to his case. That will be in my report." She looked back at him. "Was this really all your plan, beat me up, that was the best you could come up with." She shook her head.

Gail (Yoko) walked Warren into his room, only to find Hunter, Anthony, and Niko sitting around watching T.V. Dr. Spencer Reid was solving a case with J.J. and Hotchner on _Criminal Minds_. They stood up, Niko killed the Television while Anthony and Hunter took warren to his bed. Anthony started fluffing Warren's pillow.

"Jeez. Look at you kid. We were gonna take you out to eat, but you look rough." Hunter and Niko stood back while their boss gathered sheets off the floor and tucked the fallen solider into bed. "Atsa good boy Warren, good boy." He took Warren's shoes off and sat them in the floor, then sat his mangled glasses on the nightstand.

"Shh, kid. You did good. You defended us, and held your own. Just, try to pick your battles, learn a little tact. I have never been to prison, and you know why. I maintain a low profile." He shook his finger. "So no more hitting cops. In Public."

Anthony looked at the room. It was still barren.

"Man, I don't pay you enough at all. Whatever you're earning, I'm adding 20% to it from now on. Troops." Niko and Hunter came to attention. "We should let him rest. Sleep tomorrow, I'll see you Friday."

Warren fumbled an arm around one of the many stacks of CD's next to his bed. He grabbed one, pulled it close to his face to examine it, and outstretched his arm.

"Niko." His voice was loud and wavering, he was feeling dopey still. "That CD you wanted."

Niko took the CD. He managed a "Thank You," In Broken English.

Hunter walked over. "How you feeling man?"

Warren threw his hands in the air with triumph. "I hit a cop and walked out of the station a free man; I rule."

"Yeah, sure you do. Goodnight." Hunter patted his shoulder, got everyone out of the room, and killed the lights.

Hunter rolled around, pulled his pills out of his pocket, along with his cell phone. He turned on his bedside lamp, which was shaped like a palm tree.

"Take one every 4-6 hours as needed. Do not chew or crush tablets. Do not operate heavy machinery. Do not mix with Alcohol." He shook two out into his hand. Popped them in to his mouth, crunched down onto them, grabbed a bottle of water from next to his bed, and swallowed. He sat the water next to his bed, and tapped out a text message. He read out loud as he typed.

"Eddie. Things going well here. Never realized how much I missed hanging out with you. Call from a safe line sometime. Need to catch up." Warren paused, looked at the phone, and continued. "Never apologized for I.A. thing. Sorry. Warren." He clicked the send button, laid down, and the camera faded out.

The sun shone down on Warren sleeping. Warren's Cell phone is beeping. He woke up, slowly, looked at his watch, and grabbed his phone, slowly. Unidentified Caller.

"Hello?"

Pause

"Feeling better, thanks Eddie."

Pause

"Yeah, I've been sleeping. Doctor gave me some stuff for pain, then some pills to take with me." Warren started chuckling. "You cracked a Rib you large bastard, pat yourself on the back."

Pause, then more Laughter

"I don't wanna here this. But I did tell you, Ladies love Curtis Mayfield."

Long pause.

"Alright, that'd be great. I'd love to see her too."

"Yeah I'll get back to sleep, you take it easy big fella, see you this weekend."

We cut to Eddie, standing in a payphone.

"Yeah, I'm outside an ABC store right now, I'll grab a bottle of J&B, I'll have Trxie grab some steaks tomorrow. Sleep tight."

Pause

"See you soon Buddy."

Eddie looks puzzled, then nods.

"Yeah, I guess we are friends again."

Pause, then Eddie starts laughing.

"Alright, talk to you then. Okay. By." Eddie lingers on the phone a moment, smiles and hangs up.

Warren looks back at his watch, 2:37.

"Eleven Hours, Jeez."

He laid down again. Fade out

His Phone was ringing. He looked at his watch 4:17, but the next day. He looked at the windows; they were dark.

"A day in bed, what a waste."

He reached for his phone again. The little screen displayed 'MOM.'

"Hey Captain, How is-"

He stopped.

"Slow down what's-"

"Uh, uh it's 4 so, uh, 14 hours ago."

Pause. He gets quiet.

"The docks, Holy God?"

Pause

"No, no, no. Don't you send a uniform out there, I'll deal with it."

Pause

"Yeah, Yeah, I'll call her."

Pause

"He was my Friend."

Click

Warren Dials

"Hey Trixie," he paused. "Yeah, it's me."

Long Pause

"Yeah, he told you about that? Well, I'm perfectly fine. Listen, it's about Eddie."

Fade Out.

And I'm done. What a chapter. Not going say anything down here, going to post the story. Thanks for waiting. God Bless, peace out, keep on keepin' on, and take care.

J.


End file.
